The Fellowship of the Squared Circle, I Mean Ring
by Azrael-013
Summary: [Repost.] In a crazed quest to beat respect into the Free Folk of Middle-Fed-Earth, the Dark Lord Undertaker fashioned a Ring. A mismatched Fellowship sets off to stop him. Rated M for humor and language.
1. The Preliminary Chapter

The Fellowship of the Squared Circle, I Mean Ring - Preliminary Chapter

This was the first ever piece of fanfiction I had ever posted on this site, and now I'm rewriting a huge chunk and posting it back up again. A few things do need to be cleared up, though. This was written back in early 2002, thus the storyline, gimmicks and even some personalities are al based back in that particular timeline. In fact, WWE was still WWF back then (which is the reason I use WW(F)E in my disclaimer). If anything seems inconsistent with what is happening now, this is the reason. Now that's done, time for the story.

Disclaimer: Vince McMahon owns the WW(F)E and everything connected to it. J.R.R. Tolkien created the Lord of the Rings trilogy and has nothing but my utmost respect. I do not own, nor am I affiliated with anything here, seeing as I am not creative enough to come up with something like The Lord of the Rings, or rich enough to hold WW(F)E. I own nothing but my computer and even I don't foot the bill for that.

Date Uploaded: 30 November 2004

**Introduction**

Three Rings for the Elven-Kings  
Who consider themselves fairer than the rest  
Seven for the Dwarf-lords  
Who are uglier but richer than the Elves they detest  
Nine for Mortal Men  
Who are haughty but weak alike  
One for the Dark Lord on his dark bike  
In the Land of Mordor where the shadows lie

One Ring to make him loved by few,  
Hated by many and respected by all  
Either that or he makes them all famous  
In the Land of Mordor where the shadows lie

**Characters**

Note that these are in no way complete. There are still a few that I have to add within the next few weeks.

Introducing the members of the Fellowship.

Kurt Angle - Frodo: God help us. Okay, so he may not be a wide-eyed innocent-looking guy with curly hair (and yes, he still actually has hair here), but he was the best I could come up with.

The Rock - Sam: Totally nothing like the real character, and lives to see Master Kurt get into more shit each day. Then again, he'd rather be dead than address him as Master Kurt anyway.

Triple H - Aragorn: Back when he was still playing face to Jericho's heel. Either way, you saw that coming a mile away, didn't you?

Jeff Hardy - Legolas: The WWF's (former; note F) pretty boy to step in for the LOTR pretty Elf. They share the same grace anyway, even though Jeff gets his ass kicked a hell of a lot more, usually by his own fault.

Kane - Gimli: With mask ON! Right, so Kane's not your average Dwarf. Call it mixed blood. Who would you rather have by your side when faced with a twelve-foot troll, Gimli the loudmouthed Dwarf or the silent Big Red Machine?

Edge & Christian - Merry & Pippin: Merry and Pippin: E&C are M&P respectively, or even reversibly if you prefer, it doesn't really matter. I know they had this major falling a few years ago and everything, but let's face it, they were the funniest tag team ever and perfect in these slots.

Chris Jericho - Boromir: A big mouth who looks at things in the context of what he can gain. Does that describe Jericho to a tee or what? Primary reason for him being in this slot is because I get to kill him off.

Mick Foley - Gandalf: Don't look at me that way! It's my story so what I say goes, and that's final!

If you think those character choices were weird, check out the others.

Jim Ross - Bilbo: Doesn't do much except rave about slobberknockers, the Sooners, and turn into a crazed mad-Hobbit at the sight of the Ring.

Vince McMahon - Elrond: Hahaha! Total mismatch but I don't care. Elrond's wise and benevolent while Vince is cunning and devious. Should be hell.

Stephanie McMahon - Arwen: I know Stephanie can be a screaming harpy, but this is a comedy! Please, don't slit my throat yet!

Shane McMahon - Elladan/Elrohir: Whichever one you prefer, I don't really care. Hey, as far as I know Vince has only one son and Elrond had two. Guess he'll have to fill in for both.

Matt Hardy - Glorfindel: The Elven-lord who got cut from the movie to make way for Arwen's big chase scene. I wasn't about to let that happen here, though.

Shawn Michaels - Erestor: Chief of the house of Elrond, or in this case Vince McMahon. Gets a total of two lines in this fic. Might be too much already.

Bret Hart - Isildur: Don't ask me why I put him in this spot, I don't really know myself.

Stu Hart - Elendil: RIP I know what you're thinking; huh? I have no idea either.

Perry Saturn - Tom Bombadil: The biggest character who didn't make it into the movie for some reason. I don't know why I chose Perry Saturn, I guess it's because they're both really weird, one by too many hits on the head and another by default.

Moppy - Goldberry: … don't' ask. Wait, you remember Moppy, right? Come on!

Rikishi - Butterbur: First person I thought of for the part. No special reason.

Paul Bearer - Gloin: Hey, the height's a near match anyway.

Big Show - Treebeard: Once again, the height's a near match anyway.

Hurricane - Gwaihir: The Eagle-lord. I was thinking wings, and the superhero came to mind.

Brooklyn Brawler - Fatty Bolger: Another cut off character (although he was mentioned in one of the opning scenes of FOTR). Basically a caretaker of Crickhollow. Gets one line in the entire fic.

Trish Stratus - Rosie Cotton: Yeah, I know, not exactly fitting into the wholesome female-Hobbit ideology, but then again hardly anything else fit either.

Dewey & Noelle Foley - Éothain & Freda: Dewey and Noelle were the two closest kids I could get from the Federation that fit into these spots.

Billy & Chuck - Haldir: Back when they were supposedly gay, prancing around wearing matching trunks and did weird stretches together. Yes, I will go moderate on the gay jokes.

Debra - Galadriel: Hehehe... can you just imagine Gimli if someone like Debra really took Galadriel's part? You can bet King would be all over this Elf.

Stone Cold Steve Austin - Celeborn: A beer-swilling, foulmouthed Elf with a shaved head? In my world, it can happen. Celeborn in the movie may have been given two lines at the most, but Stone Cold won't settle for that - WHAT?? - I said Stone Cold won't settle for that!

Rey Mysterio Jr. - Eomer: Absolutely no match here whatsoever, but I wanted Rey-Rey in.

Lita - Eowyn: Eowyn is officially the only female in the entire trilogy who got to kick major ass. Lita may not be the solitary athletic diva on the roster, but she did make a great impact in the last couple of years.

Shannon Moore - Theodred: Immediately bites the dust. Hey, if you've seen the movies and/or read the books that shouldn't be a spoiler.

Hulk Hogan - Theoden: Hogan had the best comeback there ever was in WWE history after leaving the now (where he is now is debatable, though). Theoden was dormant until Aragorn came over and kicked Wormtongue out his life. Good match to me.

Rob Van Dam - Faramir: I originally thought of putting Jericho in this position as well, but I decided to go with Mr. Monday Night, R-V-D.

Tommy Dreamer - Parn: One of RVD's men, almost like a sidekick in this piece.

Ric Flair - Denethor: I actually didn't want to put Ric Flair in this slot, but I could find no one else. I guess it provides tribute to him being the greatest heel in wrestling history.

X-Pac - Gollum: I actually slated Heyman to be in this spot first, but after a while I changed my mind and went with X-Pac instead. Heyman went to a character fitting himself more.

Brock Lesnar - Lurtz: Needed a big, beefy dude for this part.

Jazz - Shelob: No complaints about this match, are there?

Paul Heyman - Grima Wormtongue: I think out of all the characters, this is the perfect match. These two personify each other in almost every way; Conniving, talks too much, sucks up to people in power to get what they want, will backstab at the least provocation. Do I need to go on?

Kaientai/Eric BischoffSarumanI think I was sugar high when I cast Kaientai for this one part. Well, as they say, they are EEEEVVIIILL!!!! Bit of a spoiler for Two Turnbuckles with Bischoff's name in there.

Undertaker - Sauron: The big baddie, the Dead Man turned biker reborn back to Dead Man himself. There are few more intimidating forces than the Undertaker, and that's why he was perfect for the part.

**Prologue**

The world has changed. One could feel it in the waters, in the earth, even smell it in the air. And it's not the fresh smell of a good change; more like the stagnant underlay of long, unwashed socks, or even a new gimmick change for the wrestler formerly known as Prince Albert. What these lands had is slowly fading, and those who can remember its former glory are dead, senile or drunk most of the time.

So allow this narrative to enlighten you.

It all started over three millennia ago with the fashioning of the Great Rings. No, not wrestling rings, but actual rings; glittery, shiny gold things given to the rulers of the land. Three were given to the Elves who, being beautiful, perfect and thus extremely haughty, immediately lorded it over the other races. 

They shut up after the Dwarves received seven of their own. The Dwarves, however, being miners and excellent craftsmen themselves, weren't too impressed with the craftsmanship of said rings but took them anyway for the power value.

Finally nine rings were bestowed to the race of Men, who craved power more so than the others. One can hardly blame them; they aren't immortal, don't live quite long lives, lack flawlessness like the Elves or the discipline of the Dwarves. They weren't the best race out there, but that didn't stop them from wanting to be.

Anyway, the point of them being given these Great Rings was to confer to them the ability to govern their subjects well. It didn't stop some of them from abusing their power by misleading the people and squandering public funds. Nothing much changes with governments, you would suppose.

But all of them were duped, for another Ring was forged within the recesses of Mt. Doom. In a crazed quest to beat respect into every single one of the free folk who walked the Middle-Fed-Earth, the Dark Lord/Badass Undertaker fashioned a golden Ring of excellent craft, polished elegance and incredible power, trumping all the other puny little rings (note lack of capitalization). Okay, so maybe due to lack from friends he got bored. So in the dark recesses of His Yard, the One Ring was forged which bore this inscription:

One Ring to make him loved by few,  
Hated by many and respected by all.

And with this he managed to make good His promise in gaining respect, not to mention fear, from the free folk, and completely annihilating those that resisted by going old school on them. Many crumbled, some merely after being locked in a stare down with the Dark Lord, others after a few chair shots to the jugular. It looked like the Dark Lord would succeed. This went on for a couple of years and pretty soon the rest of the peoples of Middle-earth got really sick of receiving shots to the midsection, getting chokeslammed through tables and being run over by his motorbike.

In a final undertaking to overwhelm the Undertaker (there's a play on words that didn't work out), an alliance of Men and Elves were formed. It was a shaky coalition, considering the last alliance known on Middle-Fed-Earth was composed of two sports-entertainment giants that soon floundered, and that wasn't a very good storyline either.

But that is another story, back to this one. The Men-Elves Alliance (and there was much debate over which race came first in the title, I assure you) marched against the armies of the Dark Lord. They fought against a would-be tyrant and seemed about to win if the Undertaker himself didn't decide to step into battle.

How do you kill a Dead Man? Specifically, how do you kill a Dead Man with that all-powerful One Ring (note capitalization) on his armor-clad finger? A damning question, and one that no doubt flashed through the minds of Men and Elves alike as they were victims to a rapidly spinning mace, not to mention a few Chokeslams and Tombstone Piledrivers here and there. Amid the fray the King, Stu Hart, rushed forward in a brave attempt to slay the Dark Lord and was cut down. It seemed that all hope was lost. Some cowards had already taken it upon themselves to run.

And then Bret took up his father's broken sword and somehow miraculously, considering the heavy protective covering the Undertaker seemed to have donned on his entire body, slashed the Dark Lord's fingers right off, the Ring falling with them. The Dark Lord Undertaker let out a howl that could be heard all the way to the Barren Wastelands. Hey, the guy had his finger cut off; you'd yell too if that happened to you. Then with a clap of thunder and some really freaky rolling of eyes, he imploded. No, honestly, he did, and he took out quite a few more surrounding enemies and allies with him.

That was how it came to be that Bret Hart picked up the One Ring.

As stated before Men are a greedy race, craving power and consequently easily corrupted. Bret Hart refused to destroy the Ring on grounds that he could harness the power. The Ring, unfortunately, was not merely a lump of gold metal for show. It had a will of its own, and it didn't involve Bret, at least not for long. On his way back from the battles at Mordor Bret Hart and company were ambushed by Orcs. Bret ended up floating face down in a stream with a few arrows in his back. Fish food.

And the Ring was lost and remained quiet for another two thousand years or so. It was a patient little bugger. Stories about it and the Great War were passed on from generation to generation until it degenerated to old wives' tales.

Finally they day came when the Ring chose a new holder, a greasy-haired, bandana-wearing chumpstain by the name of X-Pac. The Ring stayed with this creature for centuries and gave its bearer an unusually long life, quite unfortunately for the rest of us.

Not even an inanimate object could put up living with a wretch like X-Pac for long, however, and as such the Ring decided to pack its bags and head out in search of more pleasant, familiar surroundings. The time had come for it to return to its Master, who was in the process of rejuvenating in the forests of Mirkwood, if I remember the legend (a.k.a the books) well.

But then something happened that not even the crafty little Ring counted on. It was picked up by one of the Lands' more curious creatures, a Hobbit named JR. And for the next sixty years, again another period of time I can't be quite sure of, it remained hidden once more. That is, until the events of the War of the Ring that this narrative will tell.

**The Fellowship of the Squared Circle, I Mean Ring**


	2. A Party for Good Ol’ JR The Ring Passes ...

The Fellowship of the Squared Circle, I Mean Ring - Chapter 01: A Party for Good Ol' JR; The Ring Passes On

Date Uploaded: 04 December 2004

**Chapter 01: A Party for Good Ol' JR; The Ring Passes On**

The Shire. If there was a cozy little paradise on Middle-Fed-Earth it was this nook called Hobbiton. It was serene, with leisurely comings and goings of the Hobbits that went on with their business. Today was just a bit of an exception, what with the huge bash and all.

But the scene in front of our eyes might as well have been plucked from a storybook. Actually it was, not to mention ripped from a movie into this parody. Anyway, in the woods under the cool shade of the trees a young Hobbit sat. He had the wide, easy face of a simpleton, and was wearing a dorky red, white and blue ensemble. He was chewing on a piece of grass and reading a book entitled 'How to Have Adventures for Dummies.' Apparently the 'Idiot's Guide' must have confused him. This not so reliable-looking creature is our tale's hero.

Kurt Angle looked up as he heard singing in the distance. His pointed ears pricked up at the sound and barely made out the almost nonsensical lyrics of a weary traveler.

"The mountains are merciless, the crags steep/ I've lost half my belongings and forewent sleep/ I dream not of riches but a decent inn/ to rest my head and get a bottle of gin…" there was a groan and the next lament was spoken. "I'm getting too old for this shit."

Kurt grinned and shot to his big feet, almost tripping over them as he went to greet this trekker and particularly horrible singer. He came to a clearing overlooking the road and crossed his arms, forcing his expression to look stern as a carriage slowly rolled up.

"You're late," he scolded the driver.

"Sorry, got caught up with writing my latest novel, set right here in Hobbiton of the Shire!" Mick Foley peeked out from under the tall wizard's hat and gave his familiar gap-toothed grin, generating a cheap pop from somewhere in the unspecified background. The two of them looked around for the source but turned back to each other after finding none.

Finally unable to keep his firm front (not that it passed for one) up any longer, Kurt let out a childish laugh and jumped onto the cart. This caused the startled horse to whinny and rear up, Mick losing control of the reigns and sailing out of the vehicle. He landed with a thump mere inches away from a mud puddle.

"Jesus, Kurt, what on Middle-Fed-Earth was that for??" Mick demanded, picking himself up sorely and dusting his fallen hat off.

"I dunno. Seemed like a good idea at the time," Kurt said sheepishly as Mick hoisted himself back onto the seat. Foley mentally chided himself for forgetting that the guy was klutz as well as a dork, hazardous to himself and everyone around him.

The horse, now calm after seeing that no harm was going to be done to it, gave a little neigh of laughter at its master. Mick glared at it in warning and made an impatient noise with his tongue, flicking the reigns and urging it forward on the dirt road again.

"So what's been going on outside of Hobbiton?" Kurt asked, sitting down beside him as the cart rolled along.

"Why are you so curious?" Mick asked a bit suspiciously. "Usually you're contented to sit around and stare at air."

"Air is fascinating, you should try it," Kurt said. "Actually I'm just trying to make conversation until you get to my stop."

For someone who was so simple-minded Kurt could be a smartass at times. Mick was about to say more when they passed a clearing showing the party site. Chairs and tables were being set up, as various Hobbit workers ran to and fro or picked fights with each other. "Ah, the party. You've learned from last time and brought plenty of booze, I assume?"

"Uncle JR's got about a dozen great kegs, and that's just for backup," Kurt said, remembering the disaster a few years back when the beer had run out and angry, thirsty Hobbits rushed Bag End in a semi-drunken stupor. "I'm glad to see you, Foley, and I'm sure Uncle JR will be too."

"Good, because I intend to make myself pretty comfortable," Mick said, regaining his smile. "So, how is your uncle?"

"Uncle JR's been cranky lately because of all the party preparations and unwanted guests, but other than that it's the same old, same old," Kurt said. "Come to think of it he hasn't grown all that old, really. Pretty strange for somebody who's already hit eleventy-one."

"Eleventy-one?" Mick echoed in surprise.

"Sure," Kurt said, looking at him. ""I thought you knew he was a hundred and eleven years old today?"

Mick groaned. "Damnit, no! I thought he was seventy-one. Well, I guess I'll just have to cancel the strippers I ordered from the Godfather then, no big deal."

Suddenly Kurt stood up, causing Foley to jerk the reigns and make the horse neigh in frustration. "This is as far as I go. I'll see you later, Mick!" he jumped off and waved goodbye as he ran, apparently only remembering that he had left his book under that blasted tree.

Mick waved back and resumed his ride, grinning wryly to himself. "Boy hasn't changed; he's still the biggest dork I've ever met.

He continued upon the road some more, tipping his hat pleasantly to Hobbits, some of whom acknowledged him back (especially the children) and others who frowned and turned a blind eye. Well, you can't win them all, even if you were Mick Foley.

He kept riding some more and came to a stop in front of one of the Hobbit holes, a rather large one indicating a prominent owner. It had a green door but instead of the polished doorknob being in the center it was for some reason on the side. Foley shrugged, got out of the cart and went up to the door, banging it thrice with his stick.

"I swear to God, Moolah, if that's you, I'm cutting you and the rest of the Fab-ville Bagginses out of my fortune!" an irritated voice promptly yelled from inside.

Mick smiled knowingly. "It's just me, JR!"

There was a scramble and the door opened. JR peeked out, then pushed it farther when he saw that it was only Foley and not any of the other pests that had been bothering him all morning. "Foley! Am I relieved to see it's you," he said as the two old friends hugged and shared greetings.

"The day's been pretty hectic for you, huh?" Mick commented.

"More than you can imagine. Come in and shut the door before Moolah and the rest of her grubby-fingered posse return," JR beckoned him inside. "I'll whip up something. Careful, you might hit your head," he warned as he scuttled to the kitchen.

Mick took off his pointy hat and promptly hit his head on one of the beams across the ceiling. With a groan of pain, he followed JR into the kitchen.

"I've been expecting you for a week, you tardy bastard," JR scolded as he poured them some tea.

"So Kurt mentioned," Mick said, nonchalantly shrugging the admonishment off and helping himself to some cakes.

"Ah, so you've seen him already."

"Yeah," Mick grinned through a mouthful of cake. "He's never going to change, is he?"

"No, I don't think so," JR said with a sigh. "He was born a dork, is a dork, and will die a dork. Unfortunately that's more than I can say for any of our other relatives, that's why I took him under my wing."

"I thought you took him under your wing so he wouldn't hurt himself?"

"Yeah, that too."

Foley nearly choked on his tea as he stifled a guffaw. "I heard somewhere that I've also been branded as a disturber of the peace since I ran you out and forced you to go on that trip along with Paul Bearer, King and the others to face the dragon Gangrel."

JR shrugged indifferently. "Hobbits will talk, forget what they say. Defeating him wasn't so hard, all he needed was a bottle of one of my best BBQ sauce to soften him up. Of course having you around while I did it would have helped."

"Mmm," Mick said, purposely stuffing more cake into his mouth. He moved to change the subject. "So, is your party all set?"

"Yes, it'll take place tonight," JR said, letting the matter of the dragon go. Then he sat down and looked gravely at Foley. "I'm leaving after it. I'm taking a vacation and I don't think I shall come back."

"Living with a dork like Kurt I was surprised you lasted this long," Foley quipped.

"I mean it this time, Mick."

"Sure you do, JR," Mick said, humouring him. "Just like the time five years ago when you packed your bags and headed as far as your summer cottage in Crickhollow. Or to Bree two years before that."

JR sighed, deciding that Mick wouldn't be of much help right now. Then he looked out the window. "Look, it's getting dark. Care to go outside for a smoke before the party itself?"

"Why not?" Foley said with a shrug, chomping down the last of his food and washing it down. "You've got some of that Old Toby, right? It's great weed."

They stood from the table and went out of the door. In the same large clearing Mick passed earlier the bunch of other Hobbits JR was paying fifteen bucks an hour was setting up tents, pavilions and what not for the party that night. They were busier now, considering JR was overlooking them.

JR and Mick sat on a hill facing the workers and began to smoke. JR blew a perfect smoke ring. Foley countered by making a ship sail through it.

"You are such a show off," JR said grumpily as Mick merely continued to blow different smoke shapes, looking extremely pleased with himself.

**»»»**

In less than an hour the party was in full swing. For some reason the hired band was Fozzy, now playing in the background With Mongoose McQueen (not to be confused with one Chris Jericho) hopping around onstage. Speaking of hopping, Kurt was doing one hell of a geeky display of dancing, more like a chicken running over hot red coals. A lot of red hot coals. Somewhere the Brooklyn Brawler was trying to be cool and mingle. Edge and Christian were nowhere to be found. Rock was seated at a table having a beer and pretending he did not know the idiot in red, white and blue who was flapping his arms and doing everything but clucking like a farmhouse hen.

Unfortunately Kurt dropped down beside him. "Hey, Rocky."

Rock promptly groaned. "Did the Rock tell you that you could sit down beside him? And would you stop calling the Great One Rocky? Now get lost before someone catches the two of us together."

"Why don't you get up and ask Trish Stratus to dance?" Kurt suggested, ignoring his last comment.

"The Rock gives her one kiss and now he's supposed to be all over her? Why don't you go dance with her yourself? Then maybe you'd get laid for the first time in your life, get out of the Rock's hair and leave him alone."

"Come on, Rocky, you don't have to be shy!" Kurt said. He stood up and grabbed the Rock by his shoulders.

"Goddamnit, let go of the Rock! What in the blue hell-" but the Rock was cut off as Kurt stood him up and abruptly pushed him in the direction of a strip-teasing Trish Stratus. Trish immediately snared him with a flimsy garment that one could barely recognize as the top she was wearing half a minute ago.

JR was dictating to some kids how he commentated ringside on the epic battle between a bunch of creatures of the Shadow and members of the free folk in the slobberknocker called the Battle of Five Armies. The kids were quite enraptured, but more than a few wondered how exactly he got so close to the action without getting his head sliced off or something. Off to the side, Mick Foley was snickering to himself as he grabbed more fireworks from his cart. He was in his element and loved it.

In a tent nearby, Christian rubbed his hands in glee as Edge brought in a huge firecracker that they had sneaked out of Foley's cart. "Edge, this is totally great. So Foley thinks he can ban us from lighting a few up, huh? We'll show him!"

"Speaking of which, he 'confiscated' our bag of pipeweed earlier too," Edge said. "Consider this payback. Now, get the matches," he propped up the cracker.

Christian reached into his pants pocket and struck a match. He lit the end of the cracker and grinned as he put out the match and threw it in one corner. "So what now? We just wait for it to explode?"

"No, stupid, stick it in the ground," Edge said, shoving it to him.

"What do you mean me? I already lit the damn thing, you do it!" Christian replied, shoving it right back.

"Don't be such a baby, Christian!" Edge said just as babyishly, pushing it back to him.

Before Christian could give a smart aleck retort and shove it back to him, the sucker blew up. The rocket soared into the air and took the tent with it, completely scorching Edge and Christian, who were blown to the ground yet looked up at it in wonder, coughing through the smoke.

The people at the party gasped and looked up as a red fire-breathing dragon took shape in the night sky. There was a scuffle as they all ran to save their hides, thinking the damned thing was actually real. Chairs and tables were upturned and for a moment it seemed that the party had been horribly disrupted.

Kurt looked up, screeched and pushed JR down. "JR, watch out! There's a dragon!"

"Nonsense, there hasn't been a dragon since Gangrel got high on my special BBQ sauce!" JR declared.

At that moment the dragon soared over their heads and exploded into some cool-looking special effects. There was a collective sigh of relief as everybody realized that it was all part of the show. They began to pick themselves up, feigning aloofness.

Back where the tent used to be, the blonde Hobbit brothers surveyed their work. "That reeked of awesomeness, man," Christian remarked, his face covered with soot, except for the part where he had removed his funky sunglasses.

"Totally!" Edge said as he and Christian slapped a high five. "Let's get another one!" They began to move when a loud voice stopped them.

"Edge-ster, Christian." Foley said authoritatively. He clapped a hand on their shoulders and glared sternly at them, but his eyes still had that amused twinkle. "What have I told you about going through my firecrackers again?"

"Not to do it without asking you?" Christian tried lamely. Edge gave him a weird look. "What?? I'm trying here, man!"

Foley shook his head and led the pair of troublemakers away. "Dishwashing duty ought to be good for you two, although I think the only thing you have much experience in is washing your hair…"

JR, in order to cover up his having been shaken by the dragon fireworks, coughed, regained his composure and said brightly to everyone, "That's the signal to start dinner!"

"Food!" came the joyous yell of a young Hobbit. Considering the appetites of these folk, the tables were soon crammed.

There was eating, drinking, teasing and a few minor accidents, mostly from spilled drinks. A small food fight would have escalated from one end if Rock hadn't stepped in and clipped the Hobbit responsible on one ear. Edge and Christian spent most of the time cleaning and washing up under fierce watch from Foley. Things would have gone pretty okay until the end if Kurt hadn't opened is big mouth.

"Speech!" Kurt cheered, to which a groan promptly arose. Don't get the Hobbits wrong, when it comes to commentary JR's the best, but if one had to hear him give a speech and look at him on a podium at the same time, that person be out like a light in two seconds.

JR polished off the rest of his incredibly big, fresh off the BBQ rack meal, and stood up on the platform. He looked around. "Friends, Hobbits, countrymen. Lend me your pointy ears."

"No fair ripping off Shakespeare!" a yell came from the crowd.

"All right, fine." Actually, JR had forgotten the slip of paper on which he had written his speech on so he was quite muddled. He slipped his hand in his pocket and slowly drew out the Ring. "To tell you the truth I'm quite beat from this whole day's affairs. It's been great living with you people. This is the end. Goodbye!" with that he slipped on the Ring and vanished.

There was a noise of astonishment from the crowd. Some Hobbits even actually stopped eating in surprise. Edge blinked. "Hey, that was one of the shortest speeches he's ever given."

"Making it the best," Christian commented.

"Wait a minute, man, did he just spontaneously combust or something?" Edge asked. Christian merely shrugged.

From behind them Foley frowned, still puffing on his pipe and looking at where JR had stood. Then without a word he rose and left the crowd.

There was one person who was not so quiet, though. In the front, Kurt had sprang from his seat and was bawling like a freakin' idiot on the platform. "Waaah!!! JR, where'd you go?? Why'd you leave me??? Waaahhh!!!"

Rock rolled his eyes, even though it couldn't be seen from behind his dark sunglasses, which he was still curiously wearing though it was already well into the evening. "Moron," he muttered.

**»»»**

Meanwhile, quite a few yards away already, invisible Hobbit feet crunched on the grass towards Bag End. Once there the small gate swung open then shut. A snicker sounded as the front door then followed suit.

Inside, as the door closed, JR reappeared, looking extremely pleased with himself. He tucked the Ring back into his pocket and made his way to the hearth, beginning to pack up a few belongings for his long journey.

"I bet you thought that was pretty cool, didn't you?"

JR gasped in shock, swirled around and found himself looking at Foley. The wizard was bent in a corner of the small house and was leaning on a wall, his gap-toothed grin turned to the Hobbit.

"For Chrissake's Foley, you could have given me a heart attack!" JR said, clutching his chest.

"You're already doing a pretty good job of that yourself, the way you wolf down all that red meat," Mick pointed out. "But answer the question."

"What? Oh yes, my little disappearing act," JR said, managing a grin. "Sure I did. Didn't you?" JR said.

"Hell, it would have been better with some really cool special effects. Take an explosion and lots of flashing lights." Then Mick thought about it. "Then again, that would have given Kurt his own heart attack; he was crying like a little girl back when I left."

JR sighed and shook his head. He turned and continued to fix up his stuff for the trip he was going on. "I'm leaving him to you, you know."

"You're not serious??" Foley exclaimed. "What'd I do to merit that kind of punishment??"

"You owe me a favour remember?" JR said, apparently referring to his misadventures with the dragon again. "And yes I am serious, keep an eye on him, would you?"

"Fine," Foley said with a resigned sigh. "Two eyes, even. I'd keep two ears on him too, but you might as well settle for one and a third."

JR nodded and continued to stuff maps and papers into a satchel. "I'm leaving everything to him, unfortunately," he said. "It's in formal documents on the shelf."

"Even the Ring?"

At that JR drew back once again in surprise. "How'd you know about that?" he exclaimed, his voice coming out raspy and unnatural.

Foley rolled his eyes. "You told me, remember? When we came back in slaying Gangrel the dragon. Then again you were loaded so I guess you can't recall much about it. Oh, and you may want to get something for that nasty throat."

"I don't remember you doing much in the way of actually getting rid of the dragon!" JR said.

"That's beside the point," Foley said, stepping aside the matter once again. "I think you'd better leave the Ring too."

"To Kurt? What are you, high?" JR exclaimed incredulously.

"Probably, you Hobbits smoke a lot of pipe weed and I got hooked too. You think it would be illegal in Gondor or something?" Foley asked thoughtfully, looking at his pipe.

JR clasped the Ring firmly in his pocket. "I'm taking the blasted thing with me and that's final!" he declared.

"What' the crap's gotten into you, JR?" Mick asked, stunned, tearing his attention away from his pipe.

"You and your little cart of fireworks won't be able to take it away from me!" JR declared, drawing himself up as high as he could. Being a Hobbit, well, that wasn't very high.

"Don't take me for a mere conjuror of tricks!" Foley suddenly roared back, and he straightened up and seemed to loom bigger in front of JR's eyes. "I know I act way too goofy for my order and may seem like some loony madman after taking a lot of shots to the head but- OW!" Foley yelped, suddenly crouching back down and rubbing the back of his head. He grinned sheepishly and pointed up. "I forgot about the low ceilings."

The two had a pretty tense stare down there for a while. Mick was much bigger, but the cramped space would definitely hinder his movements if JR decided to bolt. Finally JR shook himself out of it. "Well, when you're right, you're right." he conceded.

Mick grinned and hoped he didn't look too relieved. "You're making the right choice, JR."

"I know," JR said. Then he briskly took up his bag and his walking stick by the side of the door, as well as his black Resistol hat. He placed it on his head and opened the door. "Goodbye, Foley! May we see each other again!"

"Take care of yourself, JR!" Foley called as the door shut. A moment later Foley slapped himself on his head. "Goddamnit, he's still got the Ring!! JR, come back here!!" he yelled, yanking the door open and running out into the night after the sneaky Hobbit.

"No, it's mine I tell you!" JR cried out, scampering away.

"Get back here, you lying, swindling fool! I'll show you!" Foley huffed, running after the Hobbit and cursing having eaten too much at the banquet earlier.

The two of them passed a still crying Kurt, who was being helped home by Edge and Christian. The blonde brothers stopped and nearly let go of their bawling, half-witted friend.

"Hey Edge, wasn't that JR and Foley?" Christian asked, turning around and trying to squint into the night to see, forgetting that he still had sunglasses on.

Edge turned down the road and had the good sense to lift his own shades to look. "It looked like them," he said.

"No, JR's gone! JR's left me all aloooonnneee!!! Waaaaahhh!!" Kurt bawled, springing into fresh tears and sobbing like a little Hobbit-lass.

Edge rolled his eyes. "Maybe we better just shut up and get this guy to his house before he decides to wet his pants," he suggested.

"Ew!" Christian said, squealing like the girly-boy, er Hobbit, he was. "What are we waiting for?? Let's get a move on! These are my favorite pair of tights!"

And so they went, still lugging the sniffling Kurt Angle between the two of them. The rest of the night passed smoothly, if you could ignore the screams of JR and the enraged shouts of Foley, with a bolt of lightning emanating from the wizard's stick every now and then. Finally, after about two hours into the morning, Foley managed to catch the Hobbit, force him to put the Ring into an envelope to bring it back to what was now Kurt's house.

The moment Foley stumbled into the Bag End, tired and grumbling irritably, he found Kurt sitting forlornly in front of the fire, sniffing back tears. What a simpleton. Foley walked over to him. "You should be happy, he left you the Bag End and everything in it."

"Aaauuggh!!" Kurt jumped and swiveled around, almost stumbling into the fire. "For crying out loud, Mick, would you warn somebody before you do that?? I know JR warned me that you liked to sneak up on people and all, but—"

Foley paid him no heed and put the envelope in his hand. "He even left you the Ring."

"Ring?" Kurt looked at the envelope. "What Ring?"

"You mean you don't know anything about it?"

"No," Kurt answered. "You mean his wedding band or something? But I thought he never married. And why would he give me his wedding band too of all things? Did he really hate his wife that much?"

Foley groaned. "It's not a wedding band," he snapped, not wanting to give a long explanation. "But it's very important. Keep it safe," with that he took his hat and stick and headed for the door.

"But wait a minute, you just got here!" Kurt protested. "You can't leave yet, not when I've just lost JR too!" he looked like he was ready to burst into another flood of tears.

"I'm sorry, Kurt," Actually, Mick wasn't really, but he sounded sincere enough. "But I just remembered some business I have to attend to. I'll be back, I assure you," he opened the door and turned one last time to Kurt. "Take good care of yourself, Kurt. And whatever happens, don't let anything happen to that Ring."

"Right, the ring," Kurt said, looking at the envelope in his hand.

"No, THE Ring. With a capital R. That's how important it is, Kurt," Mick said, putting more emphasis on his statement.

"Okay…" Kurt said, unsure, as he watched Foley move outside, get on his cart and drive off. He was left waving on the top step of Bag End. After a while he shut the door and looked at the envelope. "Keep it safe, huh?" with a shrug he threw it on top of JR's scattered desk and promptly forgot about it.

**cont'd**


	3. Foley Returns with Bad News, Kurt Ships ...

The Fellowship of the Squared Circle, I Mean Ring - Chapter 02: Foley Returns with Bad News; Kurt Ships Off

Date Uploaded: 06 December 2004

**Chapter 02: Foley Returns with Bad News; Kurt Ships Off**

Kurt hadn't done much in the few weeks since JR and Foley the wizard left. For the most part he just latched himself onto the Rock, mostly, and Edge and Christian, and kept spoiling parties left and right.

Now it was after a particularly late party, well late in his standards. Good Hobbits should always be in bed before nine in the evening, his mother had told him; it was already almost ten! Hence he was walking home alone. For one thing, everybody else was so drunk half of them hadn't made it out the front door of Trish Stratus' house, where the party had been. Kurt, being the milk-drinker that he was, was the only one who could stand on two feet without swaggering and falling over, then ultimately blowing chunks over the side of the road. Maybe there were a few perks to being Kurt. Not too many, but some nonetheless.

So he trotted down to Bag End whistling, opened the gate and then headed for the door. Right about that moment he should have noticed that the front door was ajar and there was a draught coming in from an open window, but well, he didn't. Nobody said he was the sharpest knife in the drawer.

Kurt walked in and took off his coat, hanging it on the coat hanger. He was about to go into the kitchen to get a glass of milk before going to bed when someone grabbed him from behind, scaring him out of his wits. He let out a squeal that made neighboring houses wonder who was being murdered. To his shock he was wheeled around and came face to face with none other than Foley. "Mick! What the hell…??"

"Where's the Ring??" Foley demanded, cutting him off, looking more agitated than he had ever been in his life.

"The what??" Kurt asked, trying to pry Mick's fingers from his shoulders.

"The Ring, jackass! The one I asked you to hold on to!" Foley yelled, shaking him even more.

"You did?" Kurt asked dumbly. "Ow, hey, stop that, it hurts!"

Foley's response was to shake him even harder, so hard that the Hobbit felt that parts of him were going to come off at the seams. "The one that JR left to you! The one with a capital R! It was in a freakin' envelope! Don't you remember?? I TOLD you to keep it safe! Don't tell me you bartered it off for booze!"

"Couldn't p-p-possibly b-be, I-I don't dr-rink anything b-but m-milk!!" Kurt protested, his teeth chattering from being shaken so much. "Stop shaking me…!"

Frustrated Foley actually stopped, this time taking a deep breath to control his frustration and looking Kurt sternly in the eye. "I'm not playing around, Kurt. I want you to think long and hard. Where is the Ring?"

Kurt rewarded his moment of patience with a blank look.

"So help me, Angle, if you lost that Ring I'll-" Mick dropped him and lifted his stick in a threatening manner. He straightened up, only to promptly hit his head on the ceiling again. "OW! Goddamnit! Curse these low Hobbit ceilings!!"

Fortunately as Foley was rubbing his head sorely a miracle happened and realization dawned on Kurt's face. "Oh, THAT Ring."

"Yes, yes, where is it??" Mick asked expectantly.

Kurt blinked and thought about it, and then his gaze fell on the cluttered desk, which was now piled even higher with Kurt's junk. The Rock may have consented to do neighbors' gardens as community service (and for what he never would tell anyone), but he drew the line at housekeeping. "I think I remember putting it there somewhere," Kurt said.

With a crazed cry Foley sprang for the desk. He frantically swiped everything off it and began to burrow through the mess in a desperate attempt to find the envelope with only a match for light. But after a while he held something up triumphantly. "Here it is!"

Kurt watched as the wizard quickly lit up a fire. "Uh, Foley? Is there something you want to tell me?" he asked, understandably very confused. Foley gave no answer and promptly threw the envelope in the fireplace. Kurt shrieked. "Are you crazy? What'd you do that for?? That's the last thing JR ever gave me!!"

"As well as everything else," Foley reminded him, gesturing to the house. He pushed Kurt away from trying to plunge his hand into the blaze to retrieve the envelope.

"But that Ring's special!" by this time Kurt knew to use the capital R.

"You never even knew about it until I gave it to you!" Mick pointed out.

"Well I want to know about it now! Doesn't that count??"

It was useless to argue with an idiot. Foley sighed and fished out the Ring from the embers by a poker. He turned to Kurt. "It isn't damaged. Now quit whining and hold out your hand."

"Huh?? No way!" Kurt declared. "What do you expect me to do, let you brand me with it?"

"It's quite cool, trust me," Mick assured.

Finally Kurt stopped bitching and reluctantly held out his hand. Foley dropped the Ring into his palm and Kurt let out another godawful yell, and then dropped it like a piece of smoldering charcoal. "It's burning!" he yelled at Foley.

Foley blinked. "Oh," he said simply. "Then I suppose it's a good thing I didn't touch it." He picked it up again by the poker and placed it on the kitchen table. "Now, Kurt, can you see anything on it?"

Kurt, still grumbling and blowing on his smarting hand, went over and peered at it. It was a while before he spoke again. "Nothing," he snapped, "there's nothing on the stupid Ring."

Foley breathed a sigh of relief and slumped into a chair.

"Except for really funky lettering that just appeared around now."

In dread and borderline excitement Foley jumped up, shoved him aside and looked at the Ring. "Aha, I knew it!" he declared, examining the flaming Elvish words carved on the band.

"What?? What is it?" Kurt asked, wondering if it was still a wedding band, only this time an Elvish one. He squinted at the letters and tried to make out if there were two names and a date on it somewhere.

"I've got some good news and some bad news, Kurt. What do you want first?" Mick said, giving a wry smile from across the table.

Kurt didn't like the sound of that or Mick's smile. "Give me the good news first, I suppose."

"All right," Foley sat down on a chair at the table. "What you're looking at is a gold mine, Kurt. Kings, lords, thieving politicians and Bill Gates would pay you a huge amount of money to get a hold of this thing. This Ring is one of a kind."

"Really?" Kurt's face lit up with interest. "Why?"

"It's a Ring of great power; it belonged to the Dark Lord Undertaker himself," Mick explained.

"Cool!" Kurt said, grinning despite his hand. He took the chair opposite Foley. "So what's the bad news?"

"The bad news is that he's looking for it," Mick said, still with that sardonic little smile.

Kurt stopped and looked at him for so long that Foley was afraid that he had had gone into cardiac arrest. Either that or he was trying to gauge if Mick was pulling his leg or not. Finally Kurt spoke again. "Wait, Undertaker was the really bad dude with a huge bike that went around trying to make people respect him, right? I think my mom used to tell me about him…"

"That's right," Mick nodded.

Kurt frowned. "But wasn't he destroyed like how many thousands of years ago?"

"His body was, yeah," Foley said, both of them still staring at the Ring, as if afraid it was going to jump up and bite them. "But believe it or not his spirit wasn't, and now it's out of Mirkwood and back at Mordor; probably got pissed off at the Elves and the spiders or something."

"So he's back, and he wants this?" Kurt pointed to the gold object on the table.

"What do you know? You do catch on quickly," Mick said, not actually meaning to be biting but still a little stunned at their find.

"If he found it on me, what would happen then?" Kurt suddenly asked in dread.

"What else?" Foley said with a shrug. "He'd have to kill you, I suppose."

"What??" Kurt shrieked for the nth time that night. Then he counted to four and forced himself to calm down. "But then he doesn't know it's here, right?" he asked hopefully. Foley said nothing, making Kurt's face fall. "Right, Mick?"

"Er, he knows," Foley answered at length.

"How could he have known???" Kurt wailed, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Well, there's someone else who knows about the Ring," Foley said slowly. "Some wretched creature JR stole, I mean, found it from. It's called X-Pac; an unpleasant fellow, always yelling here and there about unjustifiable pushes or something else. It had the Ring for I don't know how long. Then a couple of months ago it was captured by Undertaker's army and with just the threat of gagging it, it spilled everything. Undertaker knows the Ring is here."

"Then you have to take it away from here!" Kurt said, now fully panicked, thrusting the Ring to Foley.

"No!" Foley said, pushing it back with his stick, not even daring to touch the wretched object. "I can't take it!"

"Why not??" Kurt asked, picking up the Ring and looking like he was about to fling it to Foley.

Foley got up and braced himself, so it seemed like the two of them were having a Ping-Pong match on the kitchen table. "And have Undertaker kill me?? What are you, crazy??"

"Oh, so you'd rather he kill me??"

Mick thought about it and shrugged. "Well…"

"Hey, that's not fair! You're supposed to look out for me, right?? JR left me a letter saying that you're now my legal guardian. And now you're bailing out on me just because this ultra-powerful dude who could level Middle-Fed-Earth wants his stupid Ring back??" Kurt half-screamed, half-babbled incoherently.

"In my defense I was drunk the night JR made me sign those documents leaving you to me!" Mick said.

"Take it!" Kurt screamed, flinging the Ring at him.

Foley immediately sent it back with a swing of his stick, but Kurt had already taken a frying pan from the side and batted it back with ease. Years of ducking fruit taunting classmates threw at him as a kid kicked in. The Ring sailed over Foley's head and crashed into the front door as it opened. Foley and Kurt looked at it in dread.

In walked the Rock, patented sunglasses over his eyes. He looked at the two of them, then at the Ring on the floor, and then raised an eyebrow. "What in the blue hell is going on here?"

"Rocky!" Kurt said in relief.

"I told you never to call the Great One Rocky!" Rock snapped automatically at him. He looked at the Ring again. "Is that JR's Ring?"

"How do you know about it?" Kurt asked suspiciously.

"How could the Rock not know about it? He kept pulling it out of his pocket every six seconds wherever he went," Rock said. "It was trim the flowers, finger the Ring. Brag about the Sooners, touch the Ring. Tell you off for playing with his hat, make sure the Ring is still there. The Rock even knows to use the fucking capital R. Everyone in the Shire knew about it!"

"I didn't," Kurt said, blinking.

Rock snorted. "It figures."

"How much did you hear of our conversation?" Foley suddenly asked him, moving forward.

"Every goddamn word, jabroni," Rock responded. "You two were yelling so hard everybody in the entire Shire would have heard of it, if most of them weren't coming home drunk from Trish Stratus' party."

"Speaking of the party, why weren't you there, Rocky?" Kurt asked curiously.

"Mind your own business, Kirk," Rock snapped at him again. "Besides, what else does that skank have that the rest of Hobbiton hasn't seen?"

Foley shook his head. "Well that won't do," he said. He turned back to Kurt. "You'll have to leave, no buts about it." Then he turned back to the Rock. "And it seems like the Rock needs to come with you, he's heard far too much, and he'll do you good in having your back." Out of the two reasons Mick gave, though, the second one was the one he was counting on more. Rock would never talk if questioned, heck he barely gave out anything now.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa…" Rock said, holding a hand up to Mick's face. Well, as close as he could reach up to the wizard, that is. "Did the Rock hear correctly? You're ordering the Rock to come along with that Olympic moron? The Rock doesn't think so. The Rock would rather go over to the town square, build a bonfire and put all of his $500 dollar shirts in it."

Mick didn't doubt that. "I hoped it wouldn't had to have come to this, Rocky," he sighed, moved over to him and whispered something in his ear.

Rock's eyes widened, even over his ridiculously expensive sunglasses, and he jerked around to face the wizard. "You wouldn't dare blackmail the Rock."

"I would and I am, if that's what it takes to make you go with Kurt," Foley said. Kurt was a simpleton but Rock wasn't; he just hoped the latter wouldn't try to kill the former in the long run. He looked at the floor. "Pick up the Ring, Kurt, and this time put it in a safe place."

Kurt obeyed and picked up the Ring, putting it in his breast pocket. "So what do we do now?"

"Pack up," Foley said, starting to dig through a chest of drawers and throwing stuff into bags. "You two are going on a very long trip."

Rock and Kurt looked at each other. Kurt gave him a wide, dorky grin. The Rock groaned.

**»»»**

"…Now make your way to Bree, there's an inn there run by the name of the Prancing Pony. Do not give out your real names to anyone, you hear? I'll be there waiting for you. Are you sure you both understood everything I said?" Foley asked, looking back to the two who were trailing after his horse.

They were already in the woods bordering Hobbiton, some distance from Bag End. They had hurriedly gotten some supplies, the bare essentials, much to Rock's annoyance, and left. Now Foley had been rattling off directions like a robot on auto-drive and Kurt and the Rock, sick of listening, simply nodded after every statement.

"Good," Foley said, apparently not noticing their lack of attention, and swung up on his horse.

"Wait a minute," Kurt said, stopping him. "Why aren't you coming with us anyway?"

"I have more business to attend to," Foley said. "I must visit the wisest of my order. They're so wise nobody even understands them without a voiceover, but that's not the point. All you need to know is that I'm going, and I will be at Bree when you are," he reared his horse. "Go swiftly, my Hobbits, and may the Force be with you!" he galloped off.

Rock and Kurt watched him go for a while and then turned to each other. "That was from the wrong movie, wasn't it?" Kurt said finally.

"No shit, Kirk Skywalker," Rock replied. He started off down the road without another word.

Kurt hurried to keep up with him. "Hey Rocky, you got everything that Foley said, right?"

"You expected the Rock to listen to that piece of horse's ass?? No the Rock didn't listen to a thing he said!"

"Then what are we supposed to do now??" Kurt asked, frantically trying to recall the instructions. All he got was Mick in his head going, 'Blah-blah-blah Bree, blah-blah-blah Prancing Something, blah-blah-blah voiceover'.

"Keep walking," Rock mumbled grouchily, still trudging along and kicking at stuff in his path.

It was quiet again for a while as they went. Again Kurt broke the silence. "Hey Rocky, I'm glad you're with me on this journey."

"If you're a closet homosexual don't you dare let it come out now," Rock immediately snapped. "The only reason the Rock's here is that Foley unfortunately knows something that could ruin the Rock, and not because of you."

"What was it that Foley whispered to you back in Bag End?" Kurt asked curiously.

"The Rock would sooner kill himself than tell you," was the stubborn declaration.

"If you were dead, how would you be able to tell me?" Kurt then asked, confused.

The Rock groaned. "Somebody shoot the Rock, please…"

And thus the horribly unlikely duo set out.

The next morning all of Hobbiton woke up to find that Kurt had left town. There was much rejoicing that day.

**cont'd**


	4. Four's Company

The Fellowship of the Squared Circle, I Mean Ring - Chapter 03: Four's Company 

Little note before the chapter: To those who remember On Air and are wondering if it's still about, check the note in my bio. With that being said, on with the chapter.

Date Uploaded: 05 April 2005

**Chapter 03: Four's Company**

The journey to Bree was going to be an incredibly long one, and the scenery wasn't doing much for Kurt Angle's unfortunate companion. Rock and Kurt had been walking together for almost a full day already, and by hour two Rock was wishing that he had been drunk that night at the party so he would not have stumbled upon Kurt and Foley at Bag End. First they had walked along in silence, then Kurt had gotten bored and began to sing, loud and long. It was pure torture. Then he started to dance as he walked, then tell uninteresting stories. At one point he even had a conversation with his hands. It made the Rock just want to curl up in a fetal position and die.

Near dusk found them cutting through Farmer Brisco's farm, and the tall cornstalks were swaying over their heads. At that moment Rock looked up and realized that Kurt was no longer in front of him. His heart leapt with hope and he already began to formulate reasons for Foley why he had lost the dork (he got eaten by a lost troll, Undertaker got him before I did, sorry about bringing on the destruction of Middle-Fed-Earth and all that), until Kurt suddenly reappeared from behind a stalk a few feet forward. So much for hope.

"Rocky, hurry up," Kurt ushered, glancing fearfully in different directions.

"What are you so jumpy for?" Rock said, forgetting momentarily to chide him for calling the Great One 'Rocky'. "We're not even out of the Shire yet."

"No, but this is Farmer Brisco's farm," Kurt said, still looking like he was afraid the bogeyman would come out any moment to kick him on the ass. "He's caught me here a couple of times."

"Kirk Angel, stealing?" Rock raised an eyebrow and couldn't help an amused little smile. "The Rock didn't think you had it in you."

"It wasn't stealing!" Kurt insisted. "I just thought that those mushrooms were way overripe anyway…"

Before he could finish defending himself something barreled out of the cornstalks and collided headfirst into him. A second later something else crashed into the Rock. They fell down with startled cries, Kurt shrieking that Farmer Brisco was having his revenge.

That stopped when a familiar voice exclaimed, "What the—it's Kurt! Hey, Christian, it's Kurt!"

"And the Rock too, Edge!" his companion said, grinning gleefully down at the People's Hobbit.

"Get off the Rock!" Rock roared, shoving Christian away so that he sprawled over backwards. Rock got up and straightened himself indignantly. "What in the blue hell do you think you're doing, running around and knocking down the Rock? I ought to layeth the smack-"

"Right, can you save it for later, Rock?" Edge interrupted, getting up himself and looking behind them warily. "We're about to have some company! Run!" he yelled, making a dash for the farthest edge of Farmer Brisco's fields, Christian right behind him.

Kurt and Rock looked at each other for a while and presently heard the baying of dogs coming closer, as well as angry shouts. At that they turned tail and tore off after the blonde brothers as well.

"You were stealing in Farmer Brisco's crop too?" Kurt asked as he caught up to Edge and Christian, Rock right behind him.

"Not really…" Christian said as he ducked around a stalk. "We were just sprucing up his scarecrows so that they looked better, no big deal. If you ask me, the guy is so totally overreacting!"

Kurt twisted a little to look at the crop as he ran. He saw two scarecrows standing side by side, both supporting blonde wigs and weird shades, arranged in a classic Edge and Christian pose. This one was obviously meant to last for more than five seconds, but Farmer Brisco clearly wasn't too happy with that.

"Of all the idiotic, motherf…" Kurt heard Rock begin to mutter behind him. That stopped momentarily as a leaf smacked him across the face, but he picked up right where he left off, and much louder this time.

Edge had hastened to the end of Farmer Brisco's crop, still with that huge gleam of a grin on his face, but then stopped short when he saw what he had run to. He skidded to a halt and gave a sigh of relief as he looked down on the small incline he would have plunged down into had he continued. He wasn't joyful for long because a moment later Christian crashed into him, followed by Kurt. "Don't push!" Edge yelled frantically, trying to keep from teetering over the edge. But it was the Rock's sturdy built that finally sent them all tumbling down the hill.

They went over with loud cries, and a few curses. After bumping themselves like rag dolls down the incline, they crashed into a heap of arms, limbs, and big Hobbit feet.

"Great, I've got dirt in my hair!" Christian cried forlornly, struggling to get up from where Kurt had pinned him down..

"Forget that, I think I broke something!" Edge groaned, not daring to move. "I heard something snap when we landed, I just know it! I can't move!"

Rock dislodged his arm from between Kurt and Christian and pulled out a broken carrot from under Edge. "Does this answer your question, jabroni?" he asked, throwing it at him.

By this time Kurt had gotten up and dusted himself off. He watched as the Rock, realizing that there was a tear in his new shirt, tackled the two back to ground and began to beat up on them, despite yelps of apologies. Kurt ignored them for a moment and looked down the suddenly dark road. The atmosphere had curiously shifted from lighthearted to a scene out of a generic horror movie. An eerie feeling filled Kurt and, being the pansy that he was, his first thought was to hide. He spotted a huge tree on the side of the road and then looked at the other three.

Rock was sitting on Christian and had Edge locked in a sleeper. Kurt called to them. "Hey, guys, can we get off the road for a moment? I have this really bad feeling about something…"

"Shut up, Kirk, the Rock is in the middle of something," Rock replied, seemingly trying to choke the life out of Edge.

"No, come on, Rocky, listen to Kurt this time!" Christian pleaded, trying to wriggle out from under the Great One. "And Edge is turning blue!"

"Gack…" was the only thing Edge could sputter out as he tried to claw Rock's fingers from his throat.

Hoof beats were heard down the road. That was it for Kurt. "I said let's get out of sight!" he yelled out in panic. He proceeded to pull a protesting Rock off of the other two and pulled him over the other side of the road, the tree hiding them from anybody who passed by. Edge and Christian scrambled to them soon after.

Beneath the side of the tree Rock still looked liked he wanted to pummel the brothers as the hoof beats got ominously louder and came down the road. Even then the Rock became quiet. The four of them listened, holding their breaths. Kurt had the most horrible urge to put on the Ring and scamper off, but a glare from Rock put an end to that.

Presently the sound of hooves slowed down and came to a stop right above them. Kurt, Christian and Edge clung to each other, and when they tried to include the Rock were shoved back. They heard the rider dismount and start walking. After what seemed like eternity there was nothing but silence.

Christian let out a sigh of relief. "It's gone."

At that moment a black, hooded figure thrust its head down over to their hiding place and immediately spotted them. It let out a shriek of triumph.

"Aaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuugggggggghhhhhhhhhhh!" Edge and Christian screamed. They abruptly shoved it aside, tossing whatever vegetables they had pilfered while sprucing up Farmer Brisco's scarecrows at it, and scampered off.

"Get up, jabroni!" Rock yelled at Kurt, who was frozen in fear. The black figure was sprawled on the grass, shaking the stars out of its hooded head. Above the horse whinnied in disgust. Rock grabbed Kurt by the coat, hauled him up and roughly pulled him in the direction of where Edge and Christian had run off.

They ran as fast as their short Hobbit legs could carry them, as the dusk turned slowly to early evening. They dodged around trees and behind bushes, Kurt sticking close to Rock and the latter irritated that he had to baby-sit this cowardly idiot. By the time they caught up to the blonde brothers, the sun had nearly gone.

"What in the fuck was that?" Edge asked when they came up, panting.

Kurt dropped to the ground and gasped for air. "I dunno!" he blubbered, on the verge of crying. "But man, was it freaky!"

"You're telling me!" Christian exclaimed. "I think Edge nearly pissed in his pants!"

"Speak for yourself!" Edge said, shoving him. Christian promptly shoved him back, starting a shove fight.

"Both of you ran off like your pants were on fire!" Rock yelled, cutting into their brawl. He reached down and pulled Kurt to his feet, addressing him. "That thing was obviously after you. Now get up, the Rock isn't going to stick around for that thing to find out where we are."

"Where do we go now?" Kurt whimpered.

"JR's got a summer house in Buckland or something, right?" Edge suddenly remembered. "You wanna head over there and take cover for tonight?"

"Glad to see one of you is thinking," Rock said, seeming relieved that one of his companions actually had a brain. "So how far are we from there?"

"Over the river and a few minutes walk at the most," Edge said. "Although in this case I think we ought to run. Fast."

"I remember that place," Kurt said, recalling having fetched JR there some five years ago when the latter had attempted to leave him again. "It's being looked over by the caretaker, Brooklyn Brawler. I think it's called Crickhollow or something."

"What, Crack-hollow?" Christian said, puzzled and a little intrigued.

"Crickhollow, what are you, deaf?" Rock snapped.

All of a sudden another wail was heard in the distance. They turned in unison and saw that the figure from before had long mounted its horse and was barely a couple of meters away from them, riding at full speed. With a joint scream from Edge, Christian and Kurt, they raced off towards the Brandywine River. The Rider immediately followed.

As they ran somehow Kurt lagged, and Rock, Edge and Christian got to the raft (conveniently left there) first. Rock pushed off at once, even as Kurt was still running, seemingly in slow motion, towards them.

"What're you doing? We gotta wait for Kurt!" Christian yelled.

"If he can't move his candy ass fast enough then we might as well leave him," Rock retorted, momentarily forgetting about the safety of his charge.

"Wait for me!" Kurt wailed from the shore, trying not to trip over his big feet, as the Rider rode to catch up with him.

"Jump, Kurt!" Edge called, reaching out.

So Kurt jumped. He reached the small dock and with a burst of energy he leapt… and came up a foot short of the raft and promptly plunged into the freezing cold waters of the Brandywine.

Rock groaned and raised an eyebrow, shaking his head as Edge and Christian pulled a shivering Kurt onto the raft. They looked back as the Rider stopped at the shore and looked at them in frustration, emitting another shriek that made their skin crawl.

"Why doesn't it just jump over here with its horse too?" Christian mused.

"Would you want it too?" Edge asked him.

"I guess not."

"Besides, it probably saw through Kurt how stupid that would have been," Rock commented, rowing out as the Rider turned and began to race away, most likely in search for a bridge to cross.

"H-hey!" Kurt protested weakly through chattering teeth, pulling a blanket from his bag and wrapping it around himself.

The continued, mostly in paranoia, over the Brandywine River.

**»»»**

In the pleasant cottage that was Crickhollow, the Brooklyn Brawler had just but settled down for an evening cup of tea when a loud banging on the door was heard, and harsh voices. Startled out of his wits, he abruptly spilled the drink all over himself, cursing inwardly. He got up and took an umbrella from the stand in the hall and crept cautiously to the door.

"Brawler, open up!" a voice demanded.

Robbers! Brawler knew that had to be it. They were out there and intended to scare him outside so that they could beat up on him and take everything inside! He wouldn't let that happen. He was making good money from this cushy little job. In one swift stroke he opened the door and beaned the first person he saw.

"OW! You motherfucking son of a bitch!" Rock yelled, rubbing his head. He took Brawler's arm, slung it over his shoulder and delivered a Rock Bottom to the shocked caretaker onto the wooden floor. "That'll teach you to mess with the Rock," he declared down to the unmoving body.

"For crying out loud, Rocky, he was just doing his job," Kurt said, looking at the unconscious Brawler as they stepped over him to get inside.

"He did it the wrong way," Rock declared pompously, throwing his stuff into one corner.

In a while, however, Edge and Christian had dragged Brawler to a chair and managed to revive him. Upon seeing that it was just Kurt and his friends, and this narrator uses that term loosely, he humbly apologized to the Rock, who simply snorted, and then went about preparing dinner for the four of them.

"So what now?" Edge asked when they were halfway into their rather large meal. Kurt had been filling him and Christian in on the details as Rock simply grunted when asked a question. "You guys were told by Foley to get the hell out of the Shire and head to Bree, now some scary dude on a black horse is after you."

"That's like something out of a twisted movie, dude," Christian commented. "Or a really funky novel."

"The next move is that we get to Bree, that's what, so the Rock can ship this loser off to Foley and get the hell out of here," Rock responded, shoving the tea away and reaching for the beer instead.

"But then won't that guy on the black horse be looking at the roads?" Edge said.

"That's right," Kurt said, chewing thoughtfully and then looking forlorn. "We'll never get to Bree!"

Rock rolled his eyes in disgust. "Somebody shut him up or the Rock will."

"There's always the Old Forest," Brawler suddenly spoke up from his small corner.

All of them looked at him, having nearly forgotten that he was there in the first place. Then Christian shook his head. "Are you crazy? That place is full of freaky shit! Some guy who insisted to be called Just Joe went in there and never came out again. I totally would take the road and be creamed by some dude on a big black horse than go through that."

"Who said you were going?" Rock suddenly challenged.

Edge and Christian flashed him peace signs with their trademarked grins. "Of course we're going with you guys!" Christian said cheerfully. "What, you think we're going to let you have all the fun while we get left behind?"

Rock groaned. Just what he needed, two other whiny babies coming along.

"Actually, that forest isn't so tough," Edge said. "I've been there once."

"Yeah, keep dreaming, Edge," Christian said, rolling his eyes. "You have not."

"I so have too!" Edge insisted.

"You so have not!" Christian shot back.

"Shut up!" Rock ordered. He looked sternly at Edge. "You better not be pulling the Rock's leg when you say you've been inside the Old Forest."

"If you ask me he probably took two steps in at the most," Christian mocked.

"The Rock wasn't asking you!" Rock immediately snapped, and effectively cut off another childish argument. "Now the Rock wants to know, Wedge, if you really, REALLY have been through the forest, and if you can guide the Great One and Kirk through it."

"Absolutely no problem, Rocky," Edge said, grinning. "You can trust me. But you're not going without us. Besides, Christian and I would be a totally awesome addition to you two guys."

"And we'd make the group look good too!" Christian declared.

"What in the blue hell is that supposed to mean?" Rock demanded.

"Sure, you guys can come along!" Kurt said enthusiastically, ignoring the Rock's incredulous and horrified look. "The more the merrier, right?"

"All right!" Edge and Christian slapped a high five.

Thus the matter was settled, the night ended, and the Rock's nightmare grew bigger. He spent the rest of supper getting plastered and thankfully passed out on the table before the other three could start the sing-a-longs. Brawler had to haul him off to his room at the end.

**cont'd**


	5. The Freaky Old Forest

The Fellowship of the Squared Circle, I Mean Ring - Chapter 04: The Freaky Old Forest 

Another little note: Smarks at Nfiction has been updated. i hope you'll check it out as well.

Date Uploaded: 10 April 2005

**Chapter 04: The Freaky Old Forest**

Early the next morning they set out on ponies, despite Edge and Christian's protests on getting up when the sun had barely risen itself. Actually the Rock wasn't so used to that either, not to mention he was nursing a pretty bad hangover (which was helped along a little by some of Brawler's incredibly nasty tasting tonic), but he figured that the earlier they set out the earlier he could be rid of the three buffoons he had with him.

So they went, Edge in the lead, the Rock behind him, Kurt following and Christian bringing up the rear, not too enthusiastic about his position. They soon entered the Old Forest and began to trudge along, their ponies almost as down as they were. Probably even more, considering they were carrying them and all the supplies.

On the bright side, this made everyone keep quiet, even Kurt. At least the Rock was thankful for that.

They rode on for a couple of hours, the tree branches overhead keeping out most of the sunlight. This made Kurt accidentally keep butting his pony right into the Rock's every now and then, annoying the Great One immensely. The trees themselves looked like they were pissed off at the trespassing of their turf, and loomed over the travelers with threatening frowns. Well, at least that was what it looked like to the four of them, especially Christian, who kept looking behind him thinking that a hooded figure with a white mask would come hurtling out of the shadows and slit his throat like something out of a bad slasher movie.

After a couple of hours Edge stopped in a wide clearing which fortunately had more sunshine than the rest of the forest that they had gone through. Rock ground his pony to a halt as well, but Kurt wasn't so swift and his pony hit the Rock's again, causing the Rock to lurch forward. He turned to glare angrily at Kurt, who gave him an apologetic smile, then he turned back to Edge. "What now? Have we almost reached the edge of this stupid forest?"

Edge shook his head. "Nah, I'm just tired. Let's rest."

Rock groaned and was about to protest when Kurt and Christian, all for the idea, got off their ponies. "Yeah, I'm hungry," Christian said, actually just looking relieved to give up his undesirable position. "Let's have some lunch."

Outnumbered, the Rock decided to give in, but not without muttering about lazy- halflings and threatening boots to the ass. In a while they had re-heated what the Brawler had packed off with them, as even though they were Hobbits, all of them weren't too competent when it came to cooking. They sat in a circle and began to eat.

Edge ate in silence. He hadn't wanted to say it, but the main reason he stopped was that he had no idea where they were. Rock was beginning to have suspicions about Edge's lack of direction and eyed the elder blonde brother dubiously.

After they had eaten Christian stretched out and yawned. "Let's go to sleep," he suggested, stalling. "This part of the forest isn't as weird as the others; I think we'd be safe here."

"I'm with him," Edge said, still unsure of the way and still not wanting to show it for fear of getting his ass kicked by his already grumpy traveling companions. "We've got a few more miles anyway, so we might as well get some rest."

Rock wasn't too keen on that idea, but sick of arguing and losing he sat back without a word. Pretty soon Edge and Christian were dead to the world, leaning upon a massive willow tree. Rock had his back on a stone and was still, his eyes hidden by his dark sunglasses. Kurt, thinking that they were all asleep, wandered off to a creek nearby.

Quite fortunately for him the Rock wasn't slumbering. His eyes were drooping, though, and he looked around to keep from zonking out. He noticed some dirt on his pants. The Rock grumbled as he scraped the mud off with a fallen leaf. "There goes the Rock's new $700 leather pants. The Rock knew this shortcut was a bad idea but that Olympic moron and those two Valley girls had to insist going this way," he looked up. "Where in the blue hell is Kirk anyway?"

As if on cue a splash was heard, followed by a loud, frightened yell. Rock, being bored and having nothing better to do, got up and headed over to where the sound came from. He eventually came upon Kurt bobbing up and down in the sullen creek that he had gone to. Kurt spotted Rock immediately. "Rocky, help! I can't swim!"

"You can't swim? What the hell kind of idiot are you?" Rock bellowed after him, making no move to actually help his unwanted companion.

"We're Hobbits! We sink like a stone in water, remember?"

"Then how come you're still afloat?"

"Does it matter?" Kurt shrieked frantically. "Get me out!"

Not impressed with being given an order, Rock raised an eyebrow. "Give the Rock one good reason why he should save your candy ass."

Kurt gasped and pointed to his breast pocket. "I have the Ring!"

The Rock thought about it and groaned. He had to admit, that was a good enough reason. He didn't relish going to Bree and having Foley find out that he had let the moron drown, not while he had that Ring, at least. Rock doubled back to quickly take the rope from his pack and then hurried over to throw one end into the creek. Kurt caught it and the Rock began tugging him back to land.

"Jesus Christ, Kirk, you ought to think of easing up on the milkshakes from now on," Rock muttered as he gave the rope another yank.

Kurt was too busy trying to get onto the bank to hear that insult. "Would you believe, Rocky, the beastly tree threw me in!" he accused once he caught his breath, glaring at a tree near the edge.

"You think the Rock gives a shit?" Rock snapped, recoiling the rope and tucking it away into his pack again. " When did you start to use words like 'beastly' anyway? You took that line directly out of the book, didn't you?"

"No I didn't, Rocky!" Kurt defended.

"Yeah right," Rock snorted. "We're pushing it with the copyright infringement already so watch your mouth. And the Rock told you to stop calling him Rocky!"

"Where are Edge and Christian?" Kurt asked, ignoring his last statement.

"Probably still asleep or up bitching about their hair again," Rock answered, beginning to coil the rope back up. "God knows they do it often enough."

Kurt shrugged and began to head over to where they had stopped to eat and rest. He came to the clearing and found their ponies, their belongings, the old willow tree and the lower half of Christian's torso wriggling out of is base. The roots and trunk had engulfed his upper half, seemingly. Edge couldn't be seen. Kurt gave a yell every single wild animal in the forest must have heard. "Rocky, come quick! The tree's eating Edge and Christian!"

"Tell it that it might get indigestion," was Rock's indifferent answer.

"Rocky!"

"Or that it might choke and die on a strand of their blonde hair."

"Rock, I'm serious!"

Rock finally came up and stared at Christian's wriggling legs. By this time they could hear muffled yells from the brothers, signaling that they were at least still alive. "Oh," Rock said dryly, still apathetic. "So what do you expect the Rock to do? He's already saved you today. The Rock doubts those two have a good enough reason to merit the same."

"They're our friends!" Kurt pleaded.

The Rock simply raised his eyebrow at him.

Kurt groaned, then brightened up as an idea struck him. "I'll set fire to the stupid tree! Yeah, that's it! I'm using one of my three I's; Intelligence!" and with that he scrambled over to where their packs were, while Rock sat down and crossed his arms behind his head, looking in amusement at Kurt through $300 sunglasses. 

Kurt found the matches and ran eagerly over to the tree. By this time Christian wasn't kicking half as much anymore, and he was afraid that they were suffocating. Before he could light a match, though, he heard Christian's muffled voice coming from inside the tree. "Kurt, don't do it, dude!"

"Why not?" Kurt asked, astonished.

"You'll burn our hair along with it!" Christian replied in near hysterics.

"And being bald would totally reek of stinktitude!" Edge followed up.

"That is true," Kurt said thoughtfully, unaware that he would be in that exact predicament soon enough (foreshadowing much?). The Rock roll his eyes behind his sunglasses. At that moment Kurt let out a wail and started sobbing like a child who had lost his dog. "Oh no, what do I do now? Somebody help!"

It was at that moment that Rock and Kurt heard a voice, half-singing, half-chanting absolute nonsense. "Hey dol! Merry a dol! Ring a Dong Dillo! Doggies eat applesauce to save the ozone layer! You're welcome!"

"Once again, lines right out of the book!" Rock growled.

Kurt stood up and looked down the clearing. Presently a man with slightly orange-colored skin dotted with tattoos came trudging along. He had the worst fashion sense anybody held, outdoing even Kurt's goofy attire with his blue coat, yellow boots and magenta tights. He came to a stop in front of them and gave them a deranged grin. "Hello! What are you doing here?"

"We, uh, got lost taking a short cut," Kurt said.

"Correction, some idiot got us lost," Rock muttered.

"And now this tree is eating our friends!" Kurt wailed to the stranger, pointing to Edge and Christian. "Can you help us?"

The weird guy studied the situation for a moment and then went up to the tree and knocked pleasantly at it. "Old Man Willow! It's Perry Saturn! Let these two go right now!"

The wind blew, making the tree's leaves shake an obstinate no.

"Well then, you give me no choice!" Saturn drew back a few paces, measured the tree up, then to Kurt's and Rock's surprise, ran forward and hurtled himself at it like a javelin, almost impaling his bald head on the tree trunk. He bounced off it like a rubber ball and landed in a sitting position on the ground. "Yahtzee!" he called out, his eyes looking unfocused.

The tree gave a groan and promptly released its hold on Edge and Christian. The blonde brothers scrambled out and gasped for air. "We're free, we're free!" Christian said, almost delirious with happiness.

"Unfortunately," Rock said, still having moved from his spot.

Perry Saturn stood up and swaggered, seeing stars. "Lake-town people fight dragons so they don't get all fiery. You're welcome!" then he shook his head and seemed to regain some sense. "Sorry about that, I get a little light-headed after a run in with Old Man Willow. Literally."

"Um, okay," Kurt said. "Hey, thanks."

"No problem," Saturn said. "Now, I don't get many travelers in my woods. How about you come over and have a good meal and rest at my house? I know my wife would welcome you over."

"Why not?" Kurt said, anxious for a meal. Once again, the Hobbit stomach was talking. "What do you say, guys?"

The Rock actually didn't mind; at least he would sleep on a bed that night and not the freakin' forest floor with homicidal trees around him. "The Rock has no problem with that," he said. Edge and Christian also nodded an affirmative, both looking pale and anxiously fingering their hair and skin. No doubt they wanted to hole up in a bathroom, fast.

"Come along then! Hey Dol! Merry a Dol! You're welcome!" Perry Saturn started off in the direction he had been heading to, motioning the others after him.

The four Hobbits, with a few weird looks about them, grabbed their ponies' bridles and followed him into the forest.

**»»»**

"Honey! I'm home!" Perry called out the moment he and the others stepped into his bungalow.

Kurt, Rock and Edge and Christian were ushered into the kitchen and there they caught a first glimpse of Perry Saturn's wife. Kurt became tongue-tied. Rock raised an eyebrow. Edge and Christian blinked in astonishment. It wasn't that Saturn's wife was a picturesque beauty, it was, well… it was just that his wife was a household cleaning tool.

"Moppy! I came back with some travelers, I knew you wouldn't mind!" Perry said, giving his 'wife' a hug.

"His wife's a freakin' mop," Edge whispered to Kurt. "Man, he must've hit his head one too many times on Old Man Willow."

"Either that or he must be really starved for company out here all alone," Kurt said, not without pity.

"I knew it, we came home with a psycho! Now he's going to cut us up in the bathtub and eat our uteruses!" Christian wailed hysterically, but fortunately out of Saturn's hearing range.

"We're men, we don't have uteruses, you moron!" Rock told him. "Unless of course you're not entirely a man… which would explain a lot."

"Hey!" Christian protested.

"Should we tell him his wife's a mop?" Edge wondered.

Kurt shook his head. "He did save you guys, we might as well try to be polite."

"The Rock is not having a conversation with a mop," Rock declared.

"Well, sit down! Sit down! Moppy has had dinner ready for nearly an hour now," Saturn said, gesturing to the table, which was laden with a variety of different foods. How exactly it came to get there with only a mop in the house the four of them didn't know.

"Maybe it's a super mop or something," Christian mused.

"Maybe you're a super-dork," Edge said.

"The Rock would leave that title to Kurt," Rock said.

Dinner went by as smoothly as possible; for the most part Perry was the one who was talking, asking them questions with weird non-logical sentences in the middle, to which they gave vague answers, not wanting to tell him everything. Every now and then he would address his 'wife', which he obviously held a lot of respect for. Rock, Angle and Edge and Christian tried to minimize giving each other weird looks all throughout, but only Kurt deigned to address one or two words in Moppy's direction.

"Well, Moppy and I usually take a stroll at night," Perry said when dinner was over and everything was washed up and put away. "You're welcome to go to bed or stay up and relax around the fire. But don't go out, whatever you do! The trees here aren't too keen on visitors."

"You don't have to tell us that," Kurt said, and Edge and Christian shuddered.

"Come on, dear, let's go," Perry threw his coat back on, took his wife by the hand, er, handle, and exited the door.

The four watched them go then and turned to each other. The Rock had an eyebrow raised. "That was the weirdest dinner the Rock ever had," he declared. "Now if you excuse the Great One he's going to get some sleep and hopefully dream of a place far away from the three of you," he went out of the room and headed for the guest place that Saturn had fixed up for them. The other three shrugged and soon followed him.

The night passed without incident, if you could count out Kurt's hideous snoring, which kept Rock, Edge and Christian awake the entire night.

**»»»**

"Good morning!" Perry greeted.

Edge, Christian and the Rock shuffled in, bleary-eyed from lack of sleep. Kurt was the only one who burst in with a fresh grin on his face. "Good morning!" he said to Saturn. "I slept great last night, this place is really restful. Don't you agree, guys?"

His three companions merely glared at him murderously.

They had a quick breakfast, which Perry had once again insisted that Moppy had made especially for them. Deciding that it was best not to argue, they allowed Kurt to thank the mop and stood up, gathering their things. Perry walked them on the way out.

"Stay on the dirt path," Saturn advised. "You stray off it and who knows where you'll end."

"Right, we'll keep that in mind," Kurt said. "Thanks for helping us out, Perry, and tell your wife that we appreciate her wonderful hospitality."

Perry beamed. "She'd be happy to hear that."

Again Rock, Edge and Christian traded weird looks.

Perry tossed them a large paper bag. "Oh, Moppy packed you some things for the road too," he said. Then he waved. "Good luck! And remember, monkeys learn sign language so they can tell dolphins they love them. You're welcome!"

"Right…" Kurt said, as he and the others set off. He waved and pretty soon Perry Saturn's house had vanished in the distance.

"You know, he was nice for a psycho," Christian said fairly.

"He did save us," Edge said with a nod.

"Of course he considers a mop to be the love of his sorry ass life," Rock pointed out.

"I think it's sweet how they stay together and keep each other company like that," Kurt commented. "Wish I could find someone to be that loyal to me."

Rock groaned while Edge and Christian gave him the weird looks that they had been shooting around Perry Saturn.

Kurt was in a better mood for the rest of the journey, meaning he annoyed the hell out of all three of his traveling companions, Rock being the most. When the Brahma Bull felt like he could take no more and would strangle the life out of the Olympic Hobbit if he had to listen to another boring song, story or poem, dusk came and they began to close the final mile to Bree.

**cont'd**


	6. The Prancing WHAT? Hunter Appears

  
**Chapter 05: The Prancing WHAT? Hunter Appears**

It was dark when the unlikely foursome reached the wooden West-gate of the town of Bree. It was also unfortunately pouring, as it had been for almost an hour now. The Hobbits got off their ponies and approached the door, wet, shivering, but somehow refraining from complaining to each other as of the moment. Rock rapped sharply on the gate.

There was a scuffle inside and a peephole opened way above their heads. It sucked to be small. "What is it?" a voice asked, followed by a groan of frustration. "Goddamnit! There's no one out here! Must be those stupid barrow-wights playing ding-dong ditch again! If I ever get my hands on one of those blasted things…"

"Down here, ass-wipe!" Rock yelled out impatiently, banging on the door again.

Another curse came from inside. The peephole above closed and a moment later a lower one was opened at Hobbit eye-level. A scraggly old fart peered out at them. "Well, so there was someone here!" he said in astonishment. "Would you look at that? Hobbits! And four of them at once!"

"Yeah, yeah, we can count, grandpa," Rock snapped at him. "Now open the goddamn door! The Rock is getting his $1700 outfit wet, and that doesn't include the leather belt!"

"Listen to him and open the door, old man! I just blow-dried my hair and now it's getting all limp and damp!" Christian complained.

"What's your purpose in Bree?" the old man asked suspiciously.Sure you wouldn't think four figures barely coming up to his waist would be a problem, but you could never be quite sure these days.

"We're going to the inn!" Kurt replied, getting worried after he saw lightning flash in the distance. Like spiders, confrontations, alluring women and black riders, thunderstorms scared him.

"What for?" the obstinate, aging watchman asked.

"To take shelter, what the hell else for?" Edge exploded. "What, do we look like we actually like standing out here in the rain? We're not looking for trouble, we're looking for some place WARM and DRY! Let us in and mind your own business, making us stand out here like this is heinous!"

"Geez, what's gotten up your shorts?" the old man wheezed, opening the gate. "Fine, fine, you can come in."

"About damn time," Rock grumbled, shuffling ahead the rest of the pack.

Once the door was opened the Hobbits scuttled in, leading their ponies after them. They started making their way down the main road, ignoring the stares of passersby and glares of some sour-faced old people and early drunkards.

Christian sneezed then turned to Kurt. "So what inn did Mick say to wait for him at?" he asked, his voice sounding stuffy.

Kurt frowned and tried hard to remember. "It was called The Prancing something… The Prancing Coyote, I think."

"Coyotes don't prance, jabroni," Rock said from in front of him.

"They don't? Well then it's probably The Prancing Gazelle."

"That's wrong too, stupid."

"Now I'm sure gazelles prance."

"It's The Prancing Pony, moron!" Rock finally yelled in exasperation, turning abruptly around and nearly scaring his pony off.

Kurt thought about that for a while. "Nope, I'm pretty certain that Foley said that it was The Prancing Gazelle."

In a fit of acute frustration the Rock lunged for him, but was deftly held back by Edge. Meanwhile, Christian tugged on Kurt's sleeve and pointed dryly to the sign hanging on the top of the inn door, where they had finally arrived. It said, 'The Prancing Pony.'

"Great, now where's the Gazelle?" Kurt asked, looking around.

Edge and Christian groaned simultaneously, and then pulled their homicidal companion and the dim-witted Ring guy into the inn and out of the rain, after leaving their ponies to a couple of stable hands.

Inside the busy inn, the Rock shook himself from Edge's grip and walked up to the counter. He rang the bell sharply, clearly still irate. A moment later the innkeeper wobbled over, partly from exhaustion and partly from his immense bulk. Rikishi wiped his hands on the huge apron around his waist. "What's up, little brothas?" he asked, peering over the counter at them. "What can I do for you?"

"We want to check in," Kurt said. He seemed to finally accept that this was the right place.

"Of course!" Rikishi said brightly. "It's a busy night, but I have little Hobbit-sized rooms on the ground floor, all vacant for tonight…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa…" Rock said, butting in and holding a hand up. "Are you trying to insult the Rock? Now the Rock comes in here with…" he cut himself off and looked at his companions. Edge and Christian flashed him identical peace signs once again and Kurt grinned and waved at him, "… a couple of blockheads he unfortunately knows, all tired and hungry, and you offer the Rock 'a little Hobbit room?' The Rock won't settle for that! The Rock demands that one of your best suites be laid out for him tonight!"

"We'll take one of the little Hobbit rooms," Edge quickly interjected before Rock could say anything more.

Rikishi nodded. "I'll have it fixed up in no time. You guys can go to the Common Room in the meantime for some drink and dinner while waiting."

"We'll do that," Christian said as Edge dragged a protesting Rock away.

"Hey Rikishi, has Foley gotten here yet?" Kurt asked.

"Foley?" Rikishi rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Oh, right, you mean the weird guy with the big pointy hat, a sock puppet and who keeps on promoting his latest books with cheap pops? Haven't seen him around here for months."

Kurt frowned. "I knew he said the Gazelle," he muttered absently, following Christian into the Common Room.

In the crowded and noisy area that was the Common Room, they found a table and sat down, Edge having much difficulty shoving Rock into a seat. Actually, even among the different people gathered in the place, they stuck out a mile. For one thing they were the only Hobbits there, and standing at only three and a half feet made you quite conspicuous. To one wall a bunch of big people were conversing loudly. In a corner near them two equally large guys were seated at a table drinking beer, playing cards and smoking great, big cigars. And in the opposite corner a hooded figure sat by a window, smoking a pipe. The only features visible of his face in the dim light were his left eye and an uncommonly large nose.

Kurt stopped Rikishi as he passed by. "Who's that guy?" he asked nervously, pointing to the figure in the corner.

"Him? One of the wandering Rangers we get a lot here," Rikishi replied. "Pretty dangerous guy; actually once managed to get me to run over a drunken Elven-lord," Rikishi shook his head, as if trying to get the memory out. "I don't know what he's called outside of Bree, but around here he's known as Hunter. If you ask me, little dude, I'd keep away from that guy!" he was called to another table, excused himself and left.

"Hunter, huh?" Kurt mused.

At that moment Edge enthusiastically came back with a mug of beer seemingly the length of his arm. Christian reacted immediately. "Whoa, what's that?"

"This," Edge answered, "is a pint."

"Lines out of the movie," Rock muttered.

"It comes in pints?" Christian exclaimed, drawing another groan from Rock. "Wholly shit, I'm there!" and with that he jumped to his feet and headed over to the counter.

"Christian, you've already had half a mug!" Kurt called feebly. "Rocky, do something!" he begged. The Rock ignored him, still sore over Kurt's stupidity and their less than grandiose room. Kurt sighed, gave up and went back to sipping his milk. And he wondered why he always seemed to end up being the designated driver.

"Oh, you're looking for an Angle?" Christian's voice suddenly drifted back to them. They looked up to see him with a couple of large guys, pointing merrily in their direction. "I came with one! There he is, Kurt Angle over there!"

"That dumbass," Rock growled.

"What? He's just introducing me to some guys, no big deal," Kurt said, inanely waving back.

Edge and Rock gave him dry looks. "I think what the Rock means is that he's giving you away for the rest of the world to see. And that could get along really fast to the dude in black we saw two days ago," Edge said.

"Oh," Kurt said.

"So go up there and stop him!" Edge said.

"Why me?" Kurt asked.

"Because pint-boy over here is near to getting himself wasted and the Rock doesn't feel like getting up," Rock said, staring lethargically at one corner.

With a sigh Kurt got up and moved towards Christian. He didn't notice the banana peel on the floor until it was too late. Stepping on it, he slid across the room yelling like an idiot and promptly crashed into the counter. Something bright and shiny flew out of his breast pocket.

"Hey Kurt," Christian bent down to help him sit up, snapping his fingers in front of his face, "are you okay?"

"I think so…" Kurt mumbled rubbing his head.

"Hey Mr. Kurt Angle," Spike, one of the stable hands outside who had come in, called. He bent over and picked something up. "You seem to have dropped your Ring." Note capitalization.

"He's got the Ring!" Rock yelled.

All at once all four of the Hobbits had jumped the unfortunate runt of the Dudley litter, Edge moving tipsily. The bizarre fight of miniature proportions quickly escalated, and Rikishi nodded at the two big men in the corner playing cards. They got up and began to separate the four of them from Spike.

"All right, that's enough," Faarooq ordered sharply. He yanked Spike and Rock up by the backs of their collars

"You heard the man, boys, break it up!" Bradshaw yelled, similarly holding Edge and Christian.

Through all the mess Kurt had somehow gotten the Ring back. He crawled away, slipping it back into his breast pocket triumphantly.

He wasn't grinning for long because at that moment two rough hands pulled him to his feet. "You draw too much attention to yourself, stupid," a harsh voice said, dragging him up the stairs despite squeaks of protest.

"The Rock orders you to let him go!" Rock snapped at Faarooq, disentangling himself from the bigger man's grip.

"Now don't you boys cause anymore trouble," Faarooq warned him.

Edge and Christian nodded meekly while Rock simply raised his eyebrow yet again. Then Edge looked around. "Hey, where's Kurt?"

**»»»**

"What the crap do you want from me?" Kurt squealed as the figure that had been identified as Hunter booted him into a room and closed the door.

"Do you have a death wish?" Hunter snarled. "There have been rumors about a reward for the capture of a certain Kurt Angle all day and you go around prancing like you're at a carnival!"

"Hey, what's it to you?"

"Don't give me that attitude! I've been looking for you for close to a week," he didn't add that he got lost along the way too. "Now shut up before you bring anyone in here, you dork! I'm here to help you!"

It was then that loud footsteps were heard coming up the stairs. Hunter turned and reached for his sword the moment that the door burst open and the Rock came in, followed by Edge and Christian. Unfortunately, their entrance was wrecked when Christian tripped on some uneven floor and sprawled into Edge, who in turn fell onto the Rock. They landed on the floor in a less than remarkable heap.

"Jesus Christ, you've been traveling with this bunch of klutzy idiots all the way?" Hunter remarked, relaxing his stance.

"Get OFF the Rock!" Rock roared out in anger. He shoved the brothers aside and went to stand in front of Triple H. "Now you can do anything you want to the dork but there's no way in hell the Rock is letting you get the Ring!"

"So much for friends," Kurt muttered.

"You and the Rock are not friends!" Rock yelled at him.

"That hurts, Rocky, that really hurts."

"On second thought, the Rock would happily even kill him for you himself!" Rock said, trying once again to lunge for Kurt but this time it was Hunter who pushed him back.

"In due time," Hunter said.

"Who are you and what do you want from us anyway?" Christian asked.

"Sit down," Hunter said. "It's late and you'll all soon be asleep anyway."

"No thanks, we have our own room," Edge said. "Besides, you only have two beds in here, and I'm not bunking with Christian again. He still has bladder problems even at this age."

"Hey, you promised to keep that a secret!" Christian accused.

"You won't be sleeping in your own room tonight," Hunter said, rolling his eyes. "After the commotion you all made in the Common Room no doubt the news would have traveled far and wide by now," he looked at them. "They'll be after you."

"Whoa, can we cut the mysterious, dark stranger attitude thing?" Christian said. "It may suit you, but it's creeping me out. Can you just tell us exactly what on Middle-earth is going on?"

Hunter sighed. It was going to be a long night.

**»»»**

Bree had become unusually quiet. The rain had stopped but the wind was still howling outside. It seemed that only the old guy at the gate was up, and he was near to dozing off himself. The sound of hoof beats roused him, though, and he stood up and looked out of the peephole. Dumb move. Nine Black Riders, who didn't have the courtesy to knock, ran right up to the gate and stomped it down, instantly squashing the old watchman. Ah, well, he wasn't the most pleasant of fellows anyway. He wasn't even given a name. He won't be missed.

The hooded riders ran down the main road, and every shutter closed as they came. Stopping in front of the Prancing Pony, they then kicked the door aside and went in. By this time the APA were dead drunk and had fallen asleep on their card table, while Spike had somehow stuck himself into a cupboard and Rikishi hid behind the counter not daring to breathe. At that moment, while pleading for his life, the innkeeper was cursing himself for paying the APA in beer.

The Nine Black Riders finally found a Hobbit room that seemed occupied. Like big bullies they closed in on the four tiny beds and began to hack and slash at it, tearing it apart. After a while they realized that they were stabbing at nothing but pillows. The Hobbits weren't there.

With shrieks that could outdo nails scraping on a chalkboard, they turned and mounted their horses again, riding out of the inn, out of Bree and back into the darkness. So the menace passed.

Meanwhile, in Hunter's room on the second floor where they hadn't bothered to check for some reason, Kurt sat up with a jerk. He was the only one of the Hobbits who had been sleeping. Rock was in a corner glaring at Hunter through dark sunglasses. Hunter was looking out the window and not saying anything. Edge and Christian were huddled up together on another bed, shivering and whimpering uncontrollably, Edge apparently having forgotten his accusations of Christian's weak bladder.

"What was that?" Kurt demanded. "It woke me out of a good sleep!"

"That would have been your end if you had chosen to go back down to your little Hobbit room," Hunter told him.

"Again with the riddles!" Kurt said in exasperation. "Will you just explain everything in straightforward English?"

"All right," Hunter growled. He turned to face the four of them. "Those were servants of the Undertaker, the Ringwraiths or the Nine Black Riders."

"Wholly shit, there's more than one of them?" Edge exclaimed.

"They used to be great kings once," Hunter said, ignoring Edge for the minute. "Until they took Rings from the Dark Lord himself. Now they're mindless ghosts bound forever to do his bidding."

"So let me get this straight," Kurt said. "Nine dead guys on large black horses are following me under orders from the Undertaker? What the hell for?"

Hunter, Rock and Edge and Christian gave him dry looks. "Because of the Ring, moron!" Hunter yelled at him. "The Ring! The one you have in you pocket! Remember the bright shiny thing? Am I getting through to you yet?"

"Oh…" Kurt said.

Hunter groaned and shook his head. "Why it had to fall into the hands of some half-wit halfling I don't know," He mumbled to himself. Then he spoke to said half-wit "Now Kurt, the Ringwraiths are drawn to the power of that Ring, remember that. They want to find it, and the Ring wants to be found. It wants to return to its Master."

"How can it 'want' to do anything? It's an inanimate object!" Kurt cried.

"Just trust me on this one!" Hunter snapped.

"If the Rock may ask one question," Rock suddenly said. "Why didn't those Black Idiots search the entire inn instead of massacring the beds of only one room?"

Hunter shrugged. "They were great kings, as I said. Fortunately as dead beings they're idiots. I supposed they're only programmed to do one thing at a time," he closed the window. "They won't be back for tonight. Now get some sleep. We're leaving in the morning."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait just one minute," Rock said, standing up. "it was bad enough that the Rock had to put up with a crybaby and two blonde airheads but then you suddenly say you're coming along? The Rock isn't down with that!"

"You don't have to be," Hunter said. "Think about it, if you were ambushed by those Ringwraiths, would you really want to be left alone with just these three other morons?"

Rock thought about it, recalling Kurt's cowardice, Edge's inanity and Christian's tendency to scream like a girl. "You have a point," he said finally.

And so the night passed in Bree, and in the morning the Hobbits set off again, after paying a huge sum for the damages made to the inn, which nearly made Kurt's eyes fall out of their sockets (all this despite Edge and Christian pretending they had no idea how that had happened to their rented room). Another day on the road was ahead, but fortunately this time they had Hunter. Whether he was actually useful the Hobbits soon found out.


	7. Foley VS The EVIL! Round 1

  
**Chapter 06: Foley VS. The EVIL! (Round 1)**

But for the moment we must leave the Hobbits and their grouchy new companion to get on each other's nerves in order to check on what happened to Foley.

Now the wizard wasn't exactly the most punctual person on Middle-Fed-Earth, but when he said that he would be someplace, he would get there sometime near the appointed schedule, come hell or high water. At that occasion at the Prancing Pony, however, he had been rather delayed.

When he left Kurt and the Rock he had taken his trusty and super-fast steed Test (which he had actually stolen from the King of Rohan, but that's going too far in story already) and ridden to Isengard. There he had made his way to the Orthanc to greet the wisest of his order.

"Welcome, Mick Foley," a bad, booming voiceover said from somewhere in the general heavens as he dismounted his horse in front of the Orthanc. "We have been expecting you."

"Indeed!" an equally bad voiceover agreed inanely.

Foley looked up to see two guys in long white robes coming down the stairs. They were both almost an entire foot shorter than he was and were giving him really goofy smiles, as bad as Kurt's, or worse even. What they lost in height they made up for… well, Mick exactly wasn't sure what they excelled in to get their position, but the saying 'Two heads are better than one' sprang to mind. Usually.

"Kaientai," he greeted. "It's good to see you again."

"And we find it good to see you too," TAKA said, his lips not synching with the voiceover. "Come inside, we know that there is much you want to know."

"And they're supposed to be the wisest…" Foley muttered to himself as he followed them up the long flight of stairs, Funaki tripping on his long robe every now and then.

"The Dark Lord Undertaker has risen," TAKA said as they made their way into the Orthanc.

"That I knew," Foley said as they climbed a long set of stairs.

"Indeed?" Funaki asked.

Foley nodded. "He's looking for his damn Ring again. He wants it back."

"And that we knew," TAKA told him, looking pleased that they knew something Foley knew and he didn't know they knew. "And we are not sure but we think that he is getting closer to achieve his goal."

"Not while I'm still standing!" Foley declared. "The Ring is safe."

"Oh?" TAKA said. By this time they had entered Kaientai's study, littered with books that covered the desk, parts of the floor and filled huge and tall bookshelves. Seemingly unread books; all of the pages were still straight, clean and white. Foley had noticed this long before but hadn't said anything.

TAKA and Funaki each took a seat. "Tell us how you know the Ring is safe," TAKA implored.

"Oh I know," Foley said, satisfied that he knew something that Kaientai apparently didn't know and wanted to know. "It's in the safekeeping of one of my friend's nephews. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer but he's got a capable friend looking after him," he said, hoping that the Rock hadn't strangled the life out of Kurt yet.

Kaientai's eyes gleamed. "And how did the One Ring come to be in his hands?" TAKA asked.

"Long complicated history," Foley said, waving it off as he didn't feel like telling it all over again. "Also boring. I doubt you would be interested to hear it. What's important is that the Ring is found, is safe and hopefully is one its way to Bree and eventually Rivendell."

"But Undertaker is not an easy foe to hide from," TAKA said, stroking a non-existent beard.

Foley nodded in agreement. "I can't argue with you on that one, TAKA. But hey, he's not omniscient or anything; he can't be everywhere at one time. Besides, he's in Mordor without a body. How threatening can that be?"

"No, I suppose not" TAKA said. "But how are you so sure that he does not see past the boundaries of Mordor?"

Foley looked at him. "I beg your pardon?"

"We have seen the Eye," TAKA said mysteriously. "A great and commanding lidless eye, glaring down at whosoever would dare to show themselves before him."

"You saw the freakin' Eye?" Foley exclaimed. "How in the hell did you manage to do that?"

"Come with us," TAKA and Funaki rose and exited the room. Eventually they led Foley into another dark area with a large throne-like seat and a covered stand in the middle.

"You know, you really should get an interior decorator without such a moody fetish," Foley said, looking around at the gloomy designs on the walls.

Kaientai ignored his statement and went over to the stand. There Funaki took hold of the cover and swept it away as dramatically as he could, only to let the round object underneath nearly fall and roll away. TAKA yelled an expletive in Japanese, which was promptly bleeped by the voiceover, and then he took the ball and put it back.

Foley gasped, then squinted an eye and looked closely at it. "Wait, I know I should know what this is…"

"It is a Palantir," TAKA said impatiently. "One of the last Seeing Stones."

"But they are not all accounted for!" Foley said dramatically, grabbing the cover from Funaki and draping it back. At once the image of a great red Eye flashed in his head. He gave a scream and backed up. "What was THAT? Get it away, get it away!"

"So now you have seen the great Eye for yourself," TAKA said contentedly.

"Dude, that was horrible!" Foley groaned. "Can't it get some eye drops or something? It was all red and glaring and…"

"That is beside the point!" TAKA said impatiently, crossing over and taking a seat on the throne while Funaki remained standing near the now covered Palantir. "The point is Undertaker has a way of seeing out of Mordor, and if your unfortunate friend's nephew puts on the Ring, he will become visible to the Dark Lord."

At that Foley slapped a palm to his head. "Motherfuck, I forgot to tell Kurt not to put the damn thing on! I knew something slipped my mind then!" he turned to the doors. "I have to go," he said, starting to walk out.

The doors immediately slammed shut. Foley frowned, then walked over to another set of doors. They abruptly closed too. So did the next set, but this time Foley could see some of Kaientai's hired help pushing it closed from outside. So much for cheap tricks.

"You would put your faith in a halfling? Do not be foolish, Mick Foley!" TAKA said, smirking.

"I know he's goofy and dorky and all, but he was the best I could find," Foley said with a shrug. "Now come on, let me out. What's gotten into you two?

"MWAHAHAHAHAHA!" TAKA roared out. "Has it not become apparent to you? We have become EVIL! We now serve Undertaker as his loyal subjects! And now we extend to you this invitation; join us and become EVIL as well! MWAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Indeed!" Funaki followed up.

Foley frowned. "You're not evil, you just became more deranged than before! I used to think you two were eccentric, but now I realize that you're just psychos! I'm out of here!" he tried to blast the doors open with his stick, but at the moment Funaki raced up to him. Before he could attack Foley, though, the other wizard had pulled out a sock from his pants, slipped it on his arm and grabbed him by the mouth.

"Ah, you would dare use the Mandible Claw in the Orthanc against us, Mick Foley?" TAKA shouted, rising.

"Yeah, I dare!" Foley said, throwing Funaki to one side, only then realizing that he had latched himself onto Foley's stick and it flew with him. "Goddamnit!"

At this TAKA took his own magical stick, which was much bigger than him, and pointed it at Foley. Foley gave a yell as he dropped and began to spin around in a bizarre disco/break dancing fashion. "How do you like that?" he said gleefully.

"I'm getting sick!" Foley yelled to TAKA.

"Then you may have some air! To the top with you!" TAKA said, lifting his stick the same time Funaki lifted Foley's stick. Foley flew into the air, spinning like a top all the way, making him want to hurl. As he receded to the pinnacle, the last thing he heard was the maniacal laughter of both TAKA and Funaki in that bad voiceover.

"MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! We are EEEEVVIILLLLL!"

**»»»**

It was later that day when Foley woke up on the peak of the tower of Orthanc. Groaning and holding his head from acute nausea, he pulled himself over to the ledge and looked down. Immediately he wished that he hadn't. One look at the 500 ka-jillion foot drop made Foley nearly lurch forward, experiencing some really nasty vertigo.

He pulled himself back with a wheeze, but then crouched over and forced himself to look down again. Faintly he could see that on the ground about two billion orcs were busy running around and falling trees, making weapons and mixing up some Uruk-hai potions for Kaientai. He groaned again and went to lean on one of the points that jutted out over the floor. He still felt sick from all the spinning that happened earlier. Kaientait sure had some really weird but effective moves.

By and by he began to doze off. A moth came fluttering by minding its own business, and quicker than a hiccup Foley reached out and made a grab for it. Only he missed, and the moth kept flying. Letting out a curse, the wizard stumbled to his feet and chased after it, catching it not a moment too soon over the ledge. He sat back down and looked at the small winged creature, then he muttered something to it. Anybody watching would think he was saying a spell but what the moth heard was, "Tell someone to get me the fuck out of here!"

And with that Foley let the insect go, hoping that it wouldn't fly into the night, get attracted to a random light in the darkness, get too close and fizz into a burning nothingness. Then, because he had nothing else to do, he sat back down against the point and looked at the darkening sky.

He was tired, sore, hungry and angry, but at least he was alive, and that it couldn't get worse.

At that moment, it began to rain.

**»»»**

Foley must have stayed up there for days, doing nothing to pass his time but to throw spitballs at the orcs on the ground and laugh as they looked up and shook their fists in the air. He wondered where that stupid moth was.

It was that day when Kaientai themselves went up to visit him. How they got up there without the means of stairs Foley didn't know, but he was sure that it wasn't as an uncomfortable way as he had had.

"Well, Mick Foley," TAKA greeted. He was the only one who talked. Funaki seemed to be just an extension. "How were your days up here on the tower of Isengard? Were they restful?"

"The view sucks up here, you know that?" Foley said.

"Indeed!" Funaki said. TAKA immediately gave him a glare and Funaki recoiled with a sheepish grin.

"We have given you ample time to think about our offer in joining the great Dark Badass Undertaker in recovering his Ring and taking over Middle-earth," TAKA said pompously. "What is your decision?"

"So that was what this was all about? Well then you could have put me in a five-star hotel and saved your breath," Foley said. TAKA grinned. "My answer would still be to shove your offer up where the sun don't shine."

TAKA shook his head ruefully. "Well, you leave us no choice, Mick Foley. We did not want to do this, but since now we are evil, we will! MWAHAHAHAHA!"

"Please, will you stop?" Foley pleaded. "That laugh is reverberating in my eardrums!"

TAKA waved his stick again with a dumb grin. Foley stayed put. TAKA frowned and tried again. Still nothing. "It must be broken," he said. He threw it aside and grabbed Foley's stick from Funaki. "Never mind, I'll use this!"

Foley gasped as he whizzed across the pinnacle floor and was left miraculously hanging by his heels on the ledge. He screamed. "Aaaughh! No! Vertigo! Get me up, get me up!"

"And if I choose not to?" TAKA asked, swinging the stick nonchalantly.

"Hey, be careful with that!" Foley cried fearfully, knowing that his fate was hanging in the balance, no pun intended.

Finally TAKA lifted the stick again and Foley sprawled back to the middle of the floor, TAKA and Funaki on either side of him. TAKA looked down at him with a grin. "Now, say goodbye to the Middle-earth as you know it, Mick Foley, for we will finish you now, as we are EEVVILL!"

"Indeed!" Funaki agreed.

And TAKA lifted Foley's stick yet again. He probably shouldn't have, as at that moment a great Eagle swept down from the skies and hurtled itself at the two of them. Letting out a shriek and some incoherent Japanese mumbling that was lefto ut in the dub, Kaientai dove for cover. The Eagle swept back a second time, grabbing Foley's stick out of TAKA's hand. As it came back for a third time, Foley stood up and leapt off the tower.

"Shit!" the Eagle cried, flying as fast as he could and managing to catch the wizard on his back. "Citizen Foley, wassupwitdat? Did you have a death wish or something?"

"Sorry about that, Hurricane," Foley said, "but I got desperate to get away from those fools." He turned back to look at where Taka and Funaki were jumping up and down angrily on top of the tower.

"Then I suppose I don't blame you," The great Eagle Lord Hurricane said.

"What took you so long?" Foley asked as he settled himself on the Eagle's back.

"Don't blame me, that stupid moth suddenly flew to my place two days ago. I didn't know moth language and nearly killed it. Good thing one of my cousins staying with me did, and we managed to get your message," Hurricane told him. He gave a slight shrug. "It was merely a minor setback."

"Well, you did make it, and my thanks go to you."

"Don't mention it. Now sit back, relax, and let the Hurricane fly you out to Rivendell where a bunch of your Elven friends are waiting."

Foley sighed in relief and sat back. The entire trip went smoothly, as long as he didn't look down. Yup, no doubt about it if someone wanted to travel, flying was the best way to go.


	8. Disaster at Weathertop Rivendell’s Esco

I knew something was wrong. I had forgotten to add this chapter completely. Damn. Well, here it is.

**Chapter 07: Disaster at Weathertop; Rivendell's Escort Party**

So much for Foley, at least in nearly no time at all he was fed, washed, clothed and dry. Let's get back to the not so merry party of Hunter, Kurt, the Rock and Edge and Christian.

They were on foot again, with Hunter leading his horse. Apparently the nine Black Riders weren't total idiots; they had scared off all the horses in the stable, save for Hunter's. It must have been very brave or a sound sleeper.

"I'm hungry!" Christian suddenly complained.

"We just ate!" Hunter yelled back at him. "What kind of a bottomless pit are you?"

"The Hobbit kind!" Christian replied. He sighed. "Don't you know anything about Hobbits, dude? We have six square meals a day, not including snacks in between!"

"Well tough luck," Hunter growled. "We're not stopping until nightfall," he kept on walking.

Christian caught Edge's arm. "Dude, what if we starve with this guy around? I don't know if I can go without another bite of food!"

"Tough it out, you baby," Edge said unfeelingly.

"Are you honestly telling me you aren't hungry?" Christian said incredulously.

"Yes, I'm not," Edge said. The next moment a hideous growl came from the vicinity of his stomach. Christian gave him a dry look. "Aw, just suck it up, would you? Night isn't that far away anyway!" Edge turned and continued following Rock and Hunter. Kurt was lagging behind yet again.

Christian sighed and went on sullenly. A shout sounded. "Head's up!" Edge's voice. A second later an apple came flying out from the trees and smacked into Christian's forehead. Christian was knocked out cold.

Kurt came over to him, as Edge walked back and looked at his brother. "You killed him," Kurt accused.

"Hey, don't look at me!" Edge said quickly. "It was Hunter who threw the apple."

"Well then go over there and tell him that he killed Christian."

"I doubt he'd care."

At that moment a groan came from Christian's lips. "Oh, good, he's not dead," Kurt said. He reached down and helped Christian to his feet. "Come on, before Rock and Hunter leave all three of us here."

"Apple?" Edge asked, offering it to Christian. Christian's reply was to snarl at him.

They continued without much further mishap or argument among them, mostly because they traveled in single file to avoid walking side by side and ultimately start a discussion. Or maybe it was because Kurt wasn't that talkative today and had actually acted sane every now and then. Rock wondered why, but couldn't help feeling that there had to be a catch.

Night came upon them. It was then that Hunter stopped in front of an ominous-looking statue. "This is Weathertop," he said, whereupon he stumbled into a twenty-minute explanation about its history. Edge, Christian and Kurt yawned, while the Rock tapped his foot impatiently. Finally Hunter came to the point. "We'll stay here tonight."

Rolling his eyes, Rock followed Hunter into a higher up shelter in Weathertop, the other three trailing after them.

When they had found a good place, a hollowed crevice near the top, Kurt, Edge and Christian cast themselves down in exhaustion. Hunter rolled out the huge package his horse had been carrying. It had various weapons in it, the sharp blades glinting in the moonlight. "Here," he said, tossing Kurt, Edge and Christian knives.

The three of them squealed, and it was only Edge who managed to catch one after some difficulty. "Watch it!" Christian cried. "Didn't your mother ever teach you the proper way to hand someone a pointed object?"

"Yeah, these are dangerous!" Kurt said, tentatively picking up his dropped knife.

Hunter groaned and shook his head. He looked at the Rock.

"The Rock doesn't need any weapon. The Rock can take care of himself," Rock said staunchly, leaning against the structure wall and crossing his arms.

Hunter shrugged and balled up the rest of his arsenal of weapons, one of them being a sledgehammer. "Suit yourself." He straightened up. "Keep those weapons close," he said. "Now get some sleep, all of you. I'm going to go look around and keep a lookout," he took his sword and left.

The Hobbits were quiet when he had gone. Rock remained in his antisocial disposition a few feet away from where Edge and Christian had begun a low argument about whose knife was bigger. Pretty soon Kurt had dozed off. He was startled out of his sleep moment later when he felt a warm fire and the smell of food began to waft through the air.

"Deprive us of a good meal will he? I don't think so!" Christian snorted, poking at the fire underneath one of their brought pots.

"You know, I really think we should stop re-heating all these leftovers all the time," Edge said with a groan. "It's got to be bad for us or something in the long run."

"Would you rather go out and hunt something to eat?" the Rock asked him, gesturing to the dead of night. "The Rock isn't about to go out and play hide and go seek with some woodland creature."

Kurt blinked. "What are you guys doing?"

"Eating," Christian answered. "The Hunter guy's gone for now, we might as well sneak in a meal while we can. God knows when's the next time we can sit down for something. You want anything, Kurt?"

Kurt blinked again; he was still sleepy, but something did register in his mind and made him worry. "Did anyone of you guys take into consideration the fact that we'd be spotted and targeted like sitting ducks with a really bright fire giving us away?"

All three of them looked at him. Edge and Christian's eyes widened. "Wholly shit, he's right," Edge said, looking awed. 

"Wholly shit, that's got to be the first time he was ever right," Rock said, mentally kicking himself for not thinking about that. He stood up abruptly and kicked dirt over the fire, putting it out.

"What are the chances no one saw that?" Christian asked fearfully.

An unearthly wail cut into the silence. "How about none?" Edge said dryly.

Christian peered over the ledge and held back a scream. "Black Riders coming up!" he hissed. "Five of them!"

"Come on, jabronies, the Rock says we move higher!" Rock said, heading immediately for the top of the structure. The others scampered off after him.

When they reached the peak they stood back to back. It was then that Kurt, Edge and Christian gave a collective groan. They realized that they had left the knives that Hunter had given them for protection back down with the rest of their stuff. "We're defenseless, man!" Christian wailed.

"This totally sucks!" Edge said.

The Rock frowned. "You morons, he told you to keep them close!"

"Well you didn't even get one!" Kurt shot back.

"The Rock has no need for weapons; the Rock can defend himself with only his hands!" Rock said.

"Uh, Rock, that may work on people, orcs and anything with a definite body mass," Edge said. "But technically we're fighting dead guys here."

Rock thought about that. "Wholly shit."

Before any of them were able to think of a plan, although formulating one did seem bleak, five tall, black figures stepped out of the shadows and slowly started for them. All four of the Hobbits began backing off, Edge and Christian pushing Rock forward with Kurt cowering behind all of them. The Riders weren't interested with the three Hobbits in front, though, and easily sent Rock, Edge and Christian to the sidelines.

"Nobody flings the Rock around like a dishrag!" Rock declared, standing up and attempting to tackle one of the figures. All he landed in was a mess of black rags, before once again being sent into a corner. "Goddamnit! Maybe the Rock should have gotten a freakin' knife!" he chided himself.

"Rocky, help!" Kurt screamed as he backed away. "They're going to eat me!"

"They're not going to eat you, idiot!" Rock said, eyeing the scene warily. "They're just going to kill you!"

"That's just as bad!" Kurt yelled.

"Wait, Kurt, they want the Ring, right? Remember what Hunter said?" Edge said. "So all you have to do is give them the Ring and then they'll go away!"

"What in the blue hell are you nitwits talking about?" Rock yelled at them. "Kirk, if you give them that Ring I'm going to come there, turn my boot sideways and shove it straight up your candy ass!"

"Rock, you're a Hobbit, you're not wearing any boots!" Kurt said, semi-hysterical at this point.

"You know what I mean!"

"Kurt, just give them the Ring!" Christian yelled. "If you don't they'll kill all of us! I'm too pretty to die!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Rock yelled.

As the three argued in the sidelines, Kurt took out the Ring from his breast pocket and, not knowing why, he slipped it on. Immediately he disappeared from physical eyes. It didn't help against the Ringwraiths, though. Kurt screamed, but his voice seemed far away. Their faces were a hell of a lot more horrible than the hoods; skeletal, spectral-like visages stared eerily at him.

Annoyed, the nearest Rider had enough and drew up his sword. It stabbed Kurt right in the shoulder.

"OWWW!" Kurt howled, somehow wrenching the Ring off, as if hoping that would stop the pain.

Fortunately their savior came in the form of Hunter, who ran heroically back, brandishing a stick ablaze with flames. Apparently Rock hadn't put out that fire as well as he thought. Hunter, along with his sword, soon made quick work of the Ringwraiths, who seemed to really hate fire. They began to retreat, screeching.

"Where the hell were you?" Rock demanded from him after the last Ringwraith had gone off supporting a fiery stick lodged in its hood.

Hunter ignored his question and checked on Kurt. The Hobbit was turning blue and gasping for air. "He's been stabbed by a Morgul blade," Hunter said. "We have to get him to Rivendell, now."

"Dude, that place is like some three days away from here," Edge said.

"The Rock says we leave the dork here and just take the Ring," Rock said in disgust. "He's going to slow us down anyway."

"He'll turn into a Ringwraith himself. Do you really want ten of them to be following us all the way to Rivendell?" Hunter asked.

Rock shrugged. "It's Kurt. Even as a Ringwraith, how dangerous can he be?"

Hunter wouldn't have any of it, though. Five minutes later they were on the road again, even if it was in the dead of night. This time they were on full speed to Rivendell.

**»»»**

"Hunter, he's the color of the blueberries we passed about two miles down now," Edge said.

Hunter sighed and looked back at Kurt. The Hobbit was seated on the horse, as blue as Edge had described, and his breathing was short and labored. They had been walking for all of yesterday, most of the night and now it was well into the morning, but the sun was hidden by the trees overhead.

"Can't we do something to help him?" Christian asked, not relishing seeing Kurt turn into a Ringwraith right before his very eyes.

"Fine," Hunter said, stopping them for a while in a small clearing. "Have you heard of Athelas?"

All three of them gave him blank looks.

"It's called Kingsfoil in the Common Tongue."

"Isn't that a weed?" Edge finally said.

"You mean like the ones we smoke?" Christian asked.

"No jabroni, as far as the Rock knows it's useless," Rock said.

Hunter groaned in frustration. "But do you know how it looks like?" he snapped.

"Sure." Edge said with a shrug.

"Then go look for it!" Hunter said.

"Geez. Pushy…" Christian muttered.

Before they could go about searching they heard the noise of horses' hoof beats come closer. "Hide!" Hunter ordered immediately, pushing them behind some trees and bushes. He crouched down himself to look at the dirt road without being seen. Eventually they heard voices float over to them, but nothing like the shrieking and the wailing of the Black Riders.

"Why the hell did you have to follow me for?" an angry male voice snapped. "As far as I know I was sent out alone!"

"And why shouldn't I follow you?" a shrill female voice yelled back. Quite un-Elf-like, I assure you. "My daddy lets me do anything I want, I don't have to listen to you! I'll do precisely what I like!"

At this Hunter gave another groan and rubbed his forehead. He recognized the voices; they were close to Rivendell, all right. He stood up and looked back at the others. "It's all right," he said to the Hobbits. "They're not any of the Black Riders."

"The second one sounds worse than a Black Rider." Edge muttered.

Rock, Edge and Christian stood up and Christian grabbed the reins of Hunter's horse, where Kurt was perched on, still delirious. They made their way back down to the path and presently caught sight of two individuals riding on two white horses. They were Elves; with pointy ears and long hair their appearance was distinct enough. But they were bickering like two birds after one worm. Two very loud birds.

"That's what I'm afraid of," the male Elf said. "Do you know what kind of shit I'd be in with your dad when he finds out that you came out here?"

"Of course I do," The female Elf said haughtily with a smile. "And I for one hope he does fire you! You're nothing but a second-rate Elf-lord from a filthy, worthless wood, Matt Hardy of, of…"

"Mirkwood, chick," Matt growled. "It's only the biggest freakin' forest in the entire Middle-earth. Open a map sometime and see what I mean."

"You can't talk to me like that!" she screeched. She turned and finally spotted the group headed over to them. "Hunter, tell him that he can't talk to me like that!"

"Later, Steph," Hunter said as patiently as he could.

Matt blinked. "Hunter Hearst Helmsly," he greeted, suddenly becoming formal. "I have been sent by Lord Vince McMahon to find you and escort you and your companions to Rivendell."

"No, I'm going to escort them! I saw them first!" Stephanie insisted, forgoing any greeting herself whatsoever.

Matt bristled. "Listen, 'princess,' let me do my job, okay? You're not even supposed to be out here, let alone bring them to Rivendell yourself!"

"If you please…" Hunter said, cutting sharply into their discussion. "I have a sick Hobbit here." He brought Kurt over for the two of them to look at.

Stephanie immediately drew away. "Eewww… what happened to him?" she asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"A Morgul blade happened to him, that's what," Hunter said. "We've been chased by those Black Riders from Mordor all the way here."

"Yeah, you should see them!" Christian said, shuddering. "Big black horses, raspy voices, high pitched wailing…"

At that moment a shriek cut into the serenity of the woods. Hunter's horse reared back and Kurt nearly toppled off, saved only by Edge, who shoved him back into place. The Rock raised an eyebrow. "Here they come," he said, deadpan.

"We can't let them catch us here," Matt said.

"Yeah, but they're after Kurt," Edge explained. "Wherever he is there they are. And Kurt could turn into a Ringwraith if he doesn't get treated immediately!"

"Fine, give him to me," Matt said. "I can ride to Rivendell faster than those Black Riders."

"Oh no you don't!" Stephanie cried out. "I'm not going to let you hog all the glory again, Matt Hardy!"

"Are you still sore about that time when I pulled you out of a stream while you were bathing to get you away from a bunch of orcs, and your dad miraculously gave me a raise and punished you?" Matt asked with a groan. "Because really, it wasn't like I did it because I wanted to…"

"Oh shut up!" Stephanie said. She turned and grabbed Kurt, putting him on the saddle in front of her. "I'm a swifter rider than you are and I'll take him, so there!" and before anybody could stop her she had taken off, Kurt with her.

"Forgive me for saying this, Hunter, but your girlfriend is fucking suicidal," Matt said to Hunter.

Hunter could only shrug.

**»»»**

Two minutes into the furious ride Stephanie began to wish that Matt was the one who had taken the Hobbit and not her. For one thing she didn't count on the Black Riders being so fast; they had appeared and were already gaining on her.

There were five of them, and they had seemingly come out of nowhere and began to chase her. All the while Kurt remained cold and still, except for a cough here and then. Kurt was actually feeling very uncomfortable. For one thing, he kept hitting his head on Stephanie's enhanced breasts. Of course, being in the state that he was, he didn't know it.

"Got to get to the river…" Stephanie mumbled to herself, riding her horse as fast as it would go. Actually, she really didn't need to prompt her horse any faster, one look at those black steeds of doom and it had shot off quicker than any horse anyone had ever seen, except maybe for Shadowfax.

They zigzagged through some trees and a branch caught Stephanie on the face. "Damnit!" she muttered, feeling the cut on her cheek. "Not my perfect, pristine face! I'm going to ask daddy to cut down all those trees when I get home!"

Finally she caught sight of the river. Breathing a sigh of relief she maneuvered her horse down the path and over the shallow stream that it was, for now at least. Then she turned and got a wicked grin on her face. She looked at the Riders that for some reason had stopped pursuing her and remained on the bank. She drew a sword at her side that she used as a decoration for the most part. "If you want him, come and claim him!" she challenged.

At once the nine Black Riders plunged into the waters. Stephanie gave a shrill scream. "Wait, not yet!" she yelled hysterically.

They paid her no mind. They also foolishly ignored the roar that came from a distance. They turned too late to see that the river had flooded, rushing over in torrents shaped like wild horses. Before the nine of them could turn back, the water had engulfed them and washed them far away from both Stephanie and Kurt.

"All right!" Steph said triumphantly. Her horse simply gave a whinny of relief.

Kurt cut off her jubilation by coughing. He muttered something unintelligible.

"Oh shit!" Stephanie said, getting off her horse and laying him down. The Hobbit looked worse. "Damnit, Kurt!" she yelled, taking him by the shoulders and shaking him. "Don't you dare die on me! I command you not to! I won't let Matt have the last laugh! Kurt! KURT!"

Her painful voice was the last thing Kurt heard before he blacked out.

**cont'd**


	9. Rivendell, Finally

  
**Chapter 08: Rivendell, Finally**

Kurt's dreams were hazy, filled with pictures of their journeys, from their near escape in Farmer Brisco's fields to Perry Saturn and his rather unusual wife to being chased by Black Riders. He also saw a weird new Elven face speaking to him in low tones. He groaned. "Where am I?"

"In the house of Vince McMahon, and it's ten o'clock in the morning. You've overslept," a familiar voice said.

Kurt's eyes fluttered open. "Foley!" he exclaimed.

Foley sat beside him smoking his pipe. "Well, good morning, Kurt."

Kurt was thrilled to see him, but then his face darkened into a frown. "Wait a minute, you stood us up at the Prancing Pony," he said. "We had to go with Hunter instead. What happened to you?"

"Something not too pleasant," Foley answered vaguely. "I'll tell you about some other time. But for now I'm glad that you are safe."

Kurt nodded. He rubbed his left shoulder. "I thought I was a goner."

Foley decided not to tell Kurt that Rock had stuck around on different times, actually waiting for him to bite the dust. "You should thank Lord Vince for that," he said instead.

At that moment someone else came up. Kurt recognized the Elven stranger with a stern face and salt and pepper hair (most unusual for an Elf, really) from his dreams. "Hey, I saw you in my head," he said.

Vince McMahon nodded. "I healed you with the help of some of my assistants. It wasn't a walk in the park, but we managed to get to you in time." In other words he barked off orders while Elves scurried around following him.

"Hey, thanks," Kurt said, giving an inappropriate goofy grin. He looked around. "Where are Rock and Edge and Christian?"

"Probably out bugging the Elves," Foley said nonchalantly. "It seems like it's the first time any of them have ever seen so many in one place."

Kurt moved his shoulder and slowly sat up. "Hey, the pain's nearly- OWW!" he yelped, falling back down again.

"Stay put!" Vince said in exasperation. "You were at the brink of death just twenty-four hours ago. You can't expect to be moving around like normal this soon. Don't undo what we did!"

"Sorry," Kurt apologized.

Soon after both Foley and Vince McMahon left him to get some more rest. Kurt stayed in bed for a while, but presently he got bored and dragged himself out of it, taking care not to aggravate his shoulder. His entire left side felt heavy, but better than the deadened feeling of before. He walked to the balcony and looked out. So this was Rivendell. It was picturesquely perfect, with fountains, overhangs and lush wildlife, not to mention all the fair Elven folk. "I could get used to this," Kurt said to himself, forgetting he didn't exactly blend in well with the surroundings.

A few minutes later Kurt ventured to go outside. There he ran into Edge and Christian a short way from his room. "Edge, Christian!" he called out.

The two blonde brothers turned from where they had been eyeing an Elven chick on a veranda. They grinned. "Kurt!" they said at the same time, then rushed over to greet him.

"OOWW!" Kurt moaned when they squeezed him too roughly. "Ease up, guys, I'm not fully healed!"

"Then why in the blue hell are you out of bed?" a sharp voice demanded.

"Rocky!" Kurt said happily, running over to his fellow Hobbit.

Rock stopped him by simply holding up his hand in his face. "If you attempt to hug the Rock, the Rock will be forced to hurt you," he said.

"You haven't changed!" Kurt said joyfully.

"You were only asleep for two nights and a day, jabroni," the Rock snapped. "It wasn't like you were in a fucking eight-month long coma. Of course the Rock hasn't changed! Why would the Rock go and do that?"

Kurt didn't reply, as that moment another person appeared, giving him greater joy than to have the Rock openly insult him in public again. "JR!"

JR jumped a mile off his bench and clutched his chest. He no longer looked like the seventy-one Foley had first mistook him for back in Hobbiton at the start of this story. Now he looked all of his elevty-one years, and obviously feeling it too. "For Chrissake's Kurt! I'm not a young Hobbit anymore! Don't you go scaring me like that!"

"Right, sorry, JR," Kurt said. He, Edge and Christian went over and peered intently at the older Hobbit. "Man, you really did grow older."

"Yeah, your hair is all white under that black hat you're still wearing," Edge said.

"You look totally ancient," Christian followed up.

"That's JR?" Rock asked flatly, coming up.

"Are you all quite finished?" JR said irritably. With that he took Kurt by the arm, intending to talk to him alone. When they had left the other three they sat down on a bench. "Well, Kurt, I'm glad you managed to get to Rivendell safely. As you can see I've been spending a lot of time here with the Elves."

"Yeah, you must feel pretty left out."

JR sighed and shook his head. "I've been writing my memoirs, so I've been pre-occupied," he said. "How is everybody back at the Shire?"

"The usual," Kurt said. "Nobody likes to disrupt their lifestyle over there."

"You've heard about the council that would be held tomorrow morning, right?"

Kurt blinked. "Council?" little did they know three other inquisitive Hobbits had hidden themselves in the bushes behind them and were listening to every word. "A council for what?" Kurt asked.

"What you brought along, what else?" JR said. "They've invited a lot of very important people from all the different free folk in Middle-earth. I want you to represent the Hobbits as best as you can."

"I'll make you proud, JR!"

JR just secretly hoped that he wouldn't screw anything up, and at best just remained seated quietly. "Go on and get something to eat along with the others," he said. He looked over the balcony. "Look, the other members of the council are arriving now."

Kurt peered over to look.

**»»»**

Down below them, different people had begun to arrive. The gates of Imladris were opened to Dwarves, Men and Elves from other nations. It was quite a sight. A lot of Vince's people were stationed around at the area to receive them, as well as prevent a fight.

An Elf with multi-colored hair rode his horse past the gates and dismounted with sloppy flourish, looking around. He was greeted by Matt Hardy. "Hey bro, what's up?" he said enthusiastically, slapping a low five with the dark-haired Elf.

"Jeff, what are you doing here?" Matt asked, perplexed. "I didn't think dad would send you as a messenger from Mirkwood."

Jeff shrugged. "Too much of an important business, he supposed. Besides, I wanted to see you! You rarely visit anymore, only every other century! Give your younger brother a hug!" he held out his arms.

"Jeff, I'm in a really high up position here," Matt hissed at him. "Don't embarrass me!"

"Oh, so now you think you're too important to give your brother a hug hello?" Jeff said sulkily. Then he brightened. "Loosen up, Matt!" he said, thumping his brother on the back, and then squished him in an uncomfortable bear hug. "I missed you so much!"

A snicker sounded behind them. "How touching" came a mocking voice.

Both Jeff and Matt looked at the newcomer. He wore fine garments with rich armor over them and had an excellently crafted sword. Unfortunately, this was overshadowed by the really weird, round shield he had strapped to his back.

"Who're you?" Jeff asked.

"Someone a lot higher than you, and that's all you need to know, jerky," the stranger said haughtily, smirking down at both of them from his horse.

Pete Gas came up to him holding a piece of paper. "May I have your name, please?" he asked.

"It's too good for you," the stranger instantly replied with a bad pun. "But if you must know then it's Jericho of the Walls of Gondor," he said.

Pete checked the list in his hand. "Jericho… Jericho…" he ultimately shook his head. "Nope, sorry, your name isn't here."

Jericho bristled. "What the hell do you mean my name isn't there? Hey!" he protested as Joey Abs and Rodney began to lead his horse back out the gate. "Wait a minute, get your hands off my horse, you couple of ass clowns! I demand to speak to Vince McMahon!"

"My father is busy," a new voice said, and another dark-haired Elf came up to them. "My name is Shane, his son. Is something wrong?"

"You're damn right something is wrong!" Jericho snapped. "These imbeciles refuse to let me in because they say my name isn't on the stupid list."

Shane took the list. "Jericho of the Walls, was it?" he scanned the list. "No, they're right, you're not in here," he said, holding up the piece of paper. "Sorry, but it's for protection matters, we can't let in anyone who wasn't invited."

"I am Jericho, the Undisputed Champion and the son of the steward of Gondor! I demand to be let in!" Jericho yelled. Matt and Jeff grinned at him and waved as the Mean Street Posse went about leading his horse out of the gate again.

"Let him in, Shane," said yet another voice. They all turned to see Hunter walk up to them. "He's been around, we should have him at the council."

Shane looked doubtfully at the man with the glaring red dye job, scowling from his horse. "I don't know, Hunter," he said. "I don't like the look of him."

"I know, the shield gives off a distasteful vibe, doesn't it?" Jeff said.

Hunter groaned. "Just let the guy in. I'll answer to it."

Shane sighed and motioned to the Mean Street Posse to bring Jericho back in. The man from Gondor dismounted and straightened his coat. "It's a good thing you realized your error, jerky," he growled at Shane, thoroughly ignoring Hunter and flashing dirty looks to the Hardy brothers. He strutted into the House of Vince, Jeff rolling his eyes and mimicking him behind his back.

"I don't like him," Matt said flatly.

Hunter shrugged indifferently. After that the rest of the Elves of Rivendell went about welcoming the other guests into Imladris.

**»»»**

Back upstairs in the study of Vince himself, Mick Foley and the lord of the house were having a rare, serious discussion about the Ring.

"The Ring cannot stay here, Mick Foley," Vince said gravely.

"Come on, I'm sure you Elves can hold it for a couple of millennia in the least," Foley pleaded. "Slap on some of your Elvish protection, spread a rumor about a hideous curse that dares to step inside that circle, whatever you can do."

Vince was losing his patience; Foley had been begging him for the past hour and still refused to give up. He turned sharply to him. "Do we look like some damn stronghold to you?" he snapped. "Read my lips, we CANNOT keep the Ring here! The Elves are not that strong!"

"And you're actually admitting that to me?"

"Don't be a wise-ass with me, Foley. A fifty-foot dragon spitting and farting fire would be safer than taking the one Ring into our custody."

"Can you ask the help of the other peoples then?" Foley asked stubbornly.

"The Dwarves are more concerned with burrowing in the mountains and looking for riches," Vince said with a shrug. "Personally I respect the riches part, but the rest is alien to me."

"Then it must be in Men that we put our trust in."

"Men?" Vince turned to look at him with a strangled laugh. "Have you completely lost it? I was there, remember? Three thousand years ago when Men lost their credibility!"

Cut to a flashback. It showed a fiery Mount Doom, with a dirt-streaked Vince standing on the edge, calling out to Bret Hart who was some paces behind him. "Come on, throw the fucking Ring in!" Vince yelled at him.

Bret looked to him, and then to Vince. "Why, so you can screw me out of it like what you did with the WWF title? I don't think so, Vince!" he said, and then he put it away in his pocket and walked from the mountain, leaving a flabbergasted Vince behind.

End flashback. Back in Rivendell Vince had his head bowed and was rubbing his brow. "He had that chance to destroy the Evil forever, and he forsake it."

Foley was quiet. Then he spoke again. "You do know that there is one who could make them all gather together as a united people again."

"You mean him?" Vince asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "He turned from that road long ago. He runs around as a Ranger, for crying out loud. We can't expect anything from him."

Foley's shoulders sagged. So much for that conversation.

**»»»**

Later that afternoon, somewhere in Vince's house, Hunter was seated and reading a book somewhere to the side of where there was a statue bearing the shattered pieces of Stu Hart's sword, the one that Bret had used to cut the Ring from the hand of Undertaker. It was quiet.

Not for long. Jericho came into the dark and peaceful area, unusually silent himself. He didn't notice Hunter at first, but walked up to the statue. His eyes gleamed in the dim light as he reached over and took up the largest piece of the sword, the one that had the handle. "The sword that cut the Ring from the hand from Undertaker," he said wondrously.

Hunter watched him but said nothing.

Jericho swung it around carelessly for a while. "I came here for this?" he muttered. Then he brought his finger to the tip of the blade. In his single moment of acute stupidity he bent over to fix a strand of hair, that he saw was misplaced by means of the window, and the sword slipped, cutting his finger. "OWWW! Motherfuck!" he yelled out, dropping the sword on the floor. "You'd think something that hasn't been used in a few thousand years would be blunt, goddamnit!"

Hunter snickered. Jericho finally spotted him.

"Oh so you think that was funny?" Jericho snapped. "Keep laughing, jackass," he said, and then he turned and left.

"What a moron," Hunter muttered to himself, then he stood up and went over to where the statue was. Bending over he picked up the sword and replaced it in its proper spot.

"You're here again?"

Hunter cringed. He knew that whine all too well. "Hello, Stephanie," he said with a sigh.

Stephanie walked up to him, albeit a little stiffly. She hadn't anticipated that so much physical exercise from a few days ago would make her sore, and up to know her backside and thighs were still aching. "I need to talk to you, Hunter," she said. "Now turn away from that old, broken thing for a minute and come with me."

With another sigh Hunter followed her, once again wondering why he put up with the chick anyway. Stephanie led him outside into the night and eventually came to a stop on a bridge. The moon was perfect; it's light glinted off the surface of the running water and illuminated the area in a blue glow. It was the two on the bridge that really didn't fit the scenario.

"You were away for so long again," Stephanie started with a pout.

"Official business, Steph, you know that," Hunter said. "I couldn't leave the Hobbit to just die out there."

"You're not the only Ranger on Middle-earth," Stephanie pointed out.

"I'm the only one with a specific tie to the Ring, whether I like it or not," Hunter reminded her. "Listen, I'm tired. What is it you have to tell me?"

Stephanie sulked again, but then she smiled and tried a different approach. "Do you remember the first time we met?" she asked.

"How could I forget? I felt like I had walked into a dream."

The Elven maiden obviously liked that response. "Really? Why was that?"

"I took one look at you," Hunter said. And then she spoke, he heard himself say in the back of his head.

"So you really love me? And you're not hanging around just because my dad is a powerful Elven-lord?"

"No, Steph, why would you think that?" Hunter lied convincingly. Actually, it had started out that way.

Stephanie smiled and her eyes shimmered. "Let's get married, Hunter," she suddenly said.

That was something Hunter obviously was not expecting. He took a step back and began to blubber, losing most of the cool and brooding air he had around him. "Wait a minute, Steph, marriage? I know we've been together for a long time but this is a really big step…"

Stephanie frowned again. "You don't want to marry me? So you've been lying all these years?"

"No, Steph, it's not that…"

"Then do as I say!" Stephanie said, stamping her foot in a temper tantrum. "And I say that I want to get married!"

"Wholly shit," Hunter muttered under his breath. He took Stephanie's hands. "Look," he began, "I've had a really long day. I'll sleep on it, and then we can more about it in the morning, okay?" He stepped back and bowed. "Good night, my lady," then he turned to leave.

"Hunter, you had better make your decision soon," Stephanie said in a threatening voice.

"I will Steph," Hunter said, not looking back.

"Good. Because I'm pregnant."

"That's nice, Steph," Hunter nodded. He walked a couple of more paces until he stopped and looked back. He looked blankly at her then made his way back to where she stood. "Run that by me again."

"I'm pregnant," Stephanie said nonchalantly.

Hunter gaped; he had now completely lost any sense of original cool and mystery that he had about him. "You're pregnant?"

"Didn't I just say I was?"

"How can that be when I've never even touched you?"

Stephanie shrugged. "Just trust me on this one, Hunter. Consider it an Elven-thing. I'm pregnant and you're the father."

Hunter looked like he was about to say something else, but he just stopped with an index finger pointed at her. Many times he tried to say something but nothing would come out of his mouth. Finally the depth of the news sunk in and he froze.

Steph waved a hand over his face. "Hunter?" she reached over and tapped him on the shoulder. "Hunter?"

Hunter promptly fell right over the bridge and into the water.

"Hunter!" Steph screamed. "Somebody, help! Hunter fell into the stream! Somebody get him out! Shane! Matt! Daddy! Get him out!"

Eventually Jeff and Matt, who had been goofing around and wrestling on the grass nearby, heard her screams and went over to see what happened. They managed to fish out Hunter, who, although he was moving, was still unable to speak. The night passed without further incident.


	10. The Council of Vince McMahon

**Chapter 09: The Council of Vince McMahon**

As stated previously, Kurt was summoned to a secret meeting somewhere in Vince's house the very next day. However the Rock didn't like to be left out, so he hid himself in some bushes to eavesdrop. Hey, for a supposed secret meeting, the venue could have been a little more discreet; it was held on a freakin' porch, anybody could see it. Even Edge and Christian had hidden themselves behind the archway where they were in almost plain sight.

In the meeting there were gathered Men, Elves and Dwarves alike. Kurt sat in a chair and felt very unimportant while the other folk talked about their lives like a surge in the orc-infestation to the north and grumbled on the ridiculously low wages they received. Then Vince suddenly called for attention and motioned to Kurt. "Bring forth the Ring," he said.

Kurt nodded and stood up. He dipped his hand into his breast pocket and found to his horror that the Ring wasn't there. He began to pat his garments up and down, muttering a sheepish, "One moment," to Vince and the others. The rest of the council gave each other weird looks while Vince sighed.

Kurt spotted Rock among the bushes. He slowly edged over and whispered frantically, "Hey Rocky, where's the Ring?"

"They put it on a chain around your neck when you were out cold, jabroni," the Rock snapped. "And the Rock told you never to call the Great One Rocky! Now get back there before you blow the Rock's cover!"

"Oh, right," Kurt said, relieved and heading back to the middle of the council. He took hold of the chain around his neck and pulled it out. Then he took another five minutes trying to get the clasp undone and take the Ring off. Rock, Edge and Christian groaned, while the other members of the council shifted impatiently.

Finally Kurt managed to get it free and placed the Ring on the center of a stone table to the side of Vince. Then he scuffled back to his place and sat down, trying to make himself even smaller than he already was.

"This is the One Ring," Foley announced as everybody looked at it.

"No shit, Sherlock," Jericho exclaimed. "My brother was right about Bret Hart's Bane being held by some ass clown halfling! And I thought he was just stoned we he told me that. Damnit, now I owe him ten bucks!"

"After Bret was slain on the road home it vanished, but fell into the hands of a creature called X-Pac," Foley said. "I tried to question the damn thing myself when Triple H caught it in Mirkwood, but it just kept yelling like some idiot. Tough little bastard, though. I left it in the care of the Elves of Mirkwood."

Jeff Hardy grinned sheepishly at this. "Uh, can I say something?"

"Say it," Vince said.

"We kind of lost X-Pac," Jeff said hesitantly.

Vince raised an eyebrow. "And what do you mean by 'kind of'?"

"Well…" Jeff said, "It was particularly loud one night, and the guards decided that they would let it out in the open for a while, with escort, of course. But then this huge pack of orcs came out of nowhere and totally attacked them. That's when X-Pac got away."

Matt groaned and shook his head. "I knew I should have stayed home."

"Damn!" Foley groaned. Then he shrugged. "Oh well, I guess it can't be helped now. I thought you Elves were supposed to be reliable?"

Some of the Dwarves snorted derisively. "Right, very reliable. Trust the Elves to do something like that!" Paul Bearer said scornfully.

"Can we get back to the Ring, please?" Vince interjected before a fight could break out. Maybe he should have listened to his son Shane about not sticking all these different folk into one space to air out so many opinions. From his own seat near his father, Shane resisted the urge to say, 'I told you so.'

"Right. So what do we do with it?" Paul Bearer, the Dwarf asked.

"What the hell else?" Jericho snapped. "We use it against the Enemy! Think about it, it nearly leveled all of us like how many goddamn millennia ago, right? If we use it against the Dark Phenom Lord Undertaker Badass, and whatever other monikers that bastard has, then the battle is as good as ours!"

"Nothing good can come out of this ring, Jericho of the Walls," Shawn Michaels said gravely.

"What the hell do you care? You're hardly ever going to be in the picture anyway so you don't count," Jericho told him bluntly, making him bristle. "I say give it to me and I'll use it in the name of the Great Walls of my city to get rid of the Enemy Dumbass."

"That won't work," Triple H said, finally speaking up. "That Ring belongs to no one but the Undertaker. It will serve no one but him."

"What is this, Gang-up-on-Jericho day?" Jericho remarked, pissed off. "What would you know anyway? You're nothing but a half-assed Ranger guy!"

"That is Triple H, son of his father, whatever his name is," Jeff Hardy said, suddenly standing up. "He's Bret Hart's heir, even if proof of relation got lost amidst the last few centuries. Whatever I said aside, for some reason he's king so you owe him your allegiance."

"Thanks but no thanks, Jeff," Hunter snapped. "I know who I am."

"Fine, that's the last time I stick up for you," Jeff sulked, sitting back down on his chair.

"King, huh?" Jericho laughed. "I'm the Undisputed Champion, you think I care? We have no king, we need no king. Especially some jackass with a nose the size of the Horn of Gondor that I carry!"

"Why stupid you piece of…" Hunter stood up to beat him into submission but Shane and the rest of the Mean Street Posse held him back.

"So what do we do with it?" Matt Hardy asked, bringing the subject back to the Ring.

"What else? We have to destroy it!" Jeff said at once.

"Jackass," Jericho muttered.

Without a word Kane, the monstrously large son of Paul, stood up, drew an equally humongous axe and then brought it down with a roar on the golden object on the table. The axe broke instantly and Kane, despite his size, was thrown back into some of his fellow Dwarves.

The moment the axe had made contact with the Ring something flashed painfully in Kurt's cranium. "Ow, that hurt!" he moaned to no one in particular, grabbing his head. 

"It cannot be destroyed by ordinary means, Kane son of Paul," Vince said, ignoring Kurt. Then he paused and looked at Kane in stupefaction. "Wait a minute, you're a Dwarf?" he asked incredulously, looking at the Big Red Machine.

"You have a problem with that?" Kane growled, having collected himself and standing up to his full height of nearly seven feet.

Vince did his patented big gulp of fear. "No, of course not. None at all."

"So how do we destroy the blasted thing?" William Regal asked, once again pulling the topic back towards the Ring.

"It must be brought into the fires where it was forged, in His Yard at Mount Doom," Vince said, calming down after Kane took a seat.

"Oh yeah, that's a walk in the park!" Jericho said, cutting back into the discussion. "Have you even seen that place? It's all dark and creepy, and full of creatures who have no business crawling on Middle-earth. You'd get your ass kicked before you even know what was going on!"

"Yet one of us must go," Shawn insisted.

"Who would you have go, you?" Kane asked with a harsh laugh. "I'd rather get burned at the stake, again, than see the Ring in the hands of some pretty boy Elf!"

At that every one of them started fighting. The Elves against the Dwarves, the Men against the Wizard, meaning Foley who had chosen to remain silent for some reason during most of the discussion. It was in all this commotion that Kurt, in some unknown show of bravado, stood up. "Hey, will you all stop squabbling like babies? I'll take the Ring!"

Everybody looked at him. Then they all burst out laughing.

"You? Give me a break!" Jericho said scornfully. "You wouldn't last a day!"

"I got the Ring here, didn't I?" Kurt defended himself.

"Barely," Triple H sneered. "You always needed me and the rest of the other Half-lings to watch your back, you dork."

Kurt immaturely stuck his tongue out at him then turned to Vince. "I said I'll go, but I don't know the way."

Vince frowned. Really Kurt was probably the biggest dork in all of Middle-earth, and he seriously didn't think anything good would come out of sending him. But it was probably the only way they could get him out of their hair. Talk about killing two birds with one stone. "All right, Kurt."

"Yes!" Kurt said.

"But I'm giving you eight companions to go along with you," Vince interjected. "God knows you'll need them."

"Darn," Kurt said. "Well, I suppose it could be worse. Any chance I could pick them?"

"I think I should do it," Vince said dryly. He looked around. "Any volunteers to go with Kurt?"

There was a heavy silence. Personally, most of them had no problem braving the plains of His Yard by themselves, but they all felt that it was better without the klutzy crybaby that was Kurt. But he unfortunately came with the package. Foley sighed. "All right, I guess I'll go. You'll probably get so lost you'd end up in Vegas for all I know."

"And I better come along too," Hunter said with a frown. "You'd go down in two minutes without me."

"I'll come!" Jeff volunteered instantly. "You'll need somebody who's cool and looks really good all the time, even in battle, in any journey." The other three groaned and rolled their eyes.

Kane rose and went over to them. "I'm coming," he said simply in a gruff voice, leaving no room for argument.

"And I'm going too," Jericho said, stepping up. "If I didn't know any better you jackasses would probably screw everything up like hell without me."

"But then you can't come, I won't be the only pretty boy with great hair!" Jeff whined. "That's illegal!"

Jericho smirked. "Tough luck, rookie."

"I'm technically two thousand years older that you, junior," Jeff shot back.

"Well, is that it?" Vince asked before the two could start a bitch fight.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, you weren't seriously thinking of excluding the Rock, were you?" the Rock demanded, coming out from where he was hiding. He went and stood in front of Vince McMahon. "There is no way these jabronies are going anywhere without the Great One."

"Rocky, you do care!" Kurt exclaimed.

"Shut the fuck up, Kirk," Rock snapped at him. "The Rock doesn't give a rat's ass about you, but somebody capable has to see that you don't get the Ring lost or give it to the Enemy himself or something."

"And we totally would make a great addition!" Edge called, running up to them with Christian. "We both reek of awesomeness, and you could always use two guys like that!"

"They've got great hair too…" Jeff sputtered.

"Eh, they're waist height anyway, so they don't count," Jericho said with a shrug.

"Good point," Jeff conceded.

Vince sighed and held up his hands. "Well, here they are. The Fellowship of the Ring. Hey, that's got a nice ring to it, no pun intended."

"Great, so where are we going again?" Christian asked, to which Mick thwacked him on the back of the head and muttered something about word for word movie line usage.

Shawn looked at all of them; Rock was trying to get Kurt to cry, Edge and Christian were slapping a high five, Kane was standing around looking intimidating, Jeff and Jericho glared at each other in a pretty-boy stare down, Triple H shook his head, and Foley was the only one with a goofy grin on his face. Shawn sighed. This was going to be big trouble, he just knew it.


	11. Setting Off The Spies of Kaientai and Th

**Chapter 10: Setting Off; The Spies of Kaientai and That Really Cold Mountain**

Kurt fidgeted uncomfortably. They had left Rivendell some five hours back in the opposite direction and already Kurt was wishing he hadn't opened his big mouth and offered to take the Ring himself. They were traveling in single file again, so as to avoid talking to anyone.

Foley was in the lead, walking with the aid of his stick and glancing at a travel map every now and then. Jeff followed him, whistling tunelessly and annoying most everybody, but especially Kane who was right behind the Elf. The massive 'Dwarf' was silent, but his mask was freaking out both and Edge and Christian, and they trailed a couple of feet behind him. Next was the Rock, leading a very overlade pony. What the beast was hauling along Kurt couldn't fathom, as all of them seemed to be carrying a medium-sized pack themselves. Jericho followed the Rock, having grumbled for the first two hours about not being able to bring his horse. Kurt followed Jericho, and the Hobbit had a great view of Jericho's bizarre shield that he seemed to have swiped from a buffet table somewhere and was wearing it on his back, so he looked like a blonde turtle. Behind Kurt was Hunter who had remained silent for the entire trip.

Kurt adjusted his pack and garments for the nth time since they had set off. He thought back to his last meeting with JR. The older Hobbit had given him a really cool looking sword and a coat of what he called mythril. Actually JR had thought them much too good to give to someone like Kurt, but heaven knew they were probably the things that could save Kurt from orcs, goblins, whatnot, or even from himself.

And now the mythril was really bugging him. Sure it was lightweight, but man did it stick to your side like plaster on a hot day.

"Do you have ants up your pants or something?" Hunter asked when Kurt shifted his pack yet again.

"No," Kurt said crossly. "I'm just wearing something really uncomfortable, okay?"

"The woolen briefs your mom picked out for you at some bargain shop?" Jericho wisecracked in front of them, turning around a bit.

"Possibly a pair of much too baggy Pokemon boxers," Rock said from in front of Jericho.

"Frilly pink panties?" Jeff called out his guess. The Elven ears made him hear positively anything.

"Very funny," Kurt grumbled, looking down at his big, hairy feet.

Jericho was about to say something else when a whine from Christian stopped him. "Foley, come on, we're tired, and hungry!"

Foley groaned. "Trust Hobbits," he muttered. He turned around to face Edge and Christian with a stern expression. "Let me get one thing straight, Edge, Christian," he said. "We are not going to stop until nightfall, is that understood?"

Edge and Christian looked sullenly at each other, then back at Foley. They were actually about to agree when a loud rumble sounded. The brothers looked at each other, and then at Foley, who was red. "Dude, you're hungry too, aren't you?" Edge said dryly.

Foley was quiet for a while. "Maybe a little bit," he finally admitted.

"BREAK!" Edge yelled to the rest of the company.

There was some grumbling from Hunter about covering as much ground as they could before night came, but after a unanimous vote of everyone else against him, he consented. In a while Kurt had a fire going and was heating up some food they had received in Rivendell. Foley sat down to have a smoke and once again study the maps he had brought along. The directions written in near-incomprehensible Tengwar were really confusing him. Jericho, for some reason, started sparring with Edge and Christian.

"Is that the best you can do, you runts?" Jericho taunted, swinging his sword and parrying easily against the both of them.

"Damnit, Christian, get behind him then we can take him down!" Edge said.

"It wouldn't do squat!" Christian said. "He's still got that stupid shield on!"

"So poke him in the ass!"

"Don't you dare!" Jericho yelped. At that moment Christian ducked between his legs. Reacting quickly, Jericho fended off Edge and turned around to stop Christian's blow. When he did, he accidentally nicked Christian's hand.

"Yeeeooowwwcchh!" Christian yelped, dropping his sword and then jumping around clutching his hand with the minuscule cut.

"You hit my brother, you bastard!" Edge yelled. He ran up and kicked Jericho in the shin and then speared him headlong. Christian then got up and they proceeded to beat down on the Ayatollah of Rock and Rolla as best as they could.

This made Hunter burst out laughing, for possibly the first time anybody had ever seen him do so. "Shut the hell up, assclown, and get these idiots off me!" Jericho yelled at him.

"What, a big warrior like you can't fend off two Hobbits half your size?" Hunter mocked.

"All the better for them to hit below the belt!"

The three of them continued to tussle with no intervention from Hunter as Kane approached Foley. "Call me crazy, but are we going the long way around?" he suddenly asked, his voice muffled by the mask he wore as usual.

"Hey, this is the best way I could make out," Foley said, taking the pipe out of his mouth. "Even if it passes too close to Isengard for my taste."

"Why should we make it more difficult for ourselves?" Kane asked. "We can take a shortcut in the mines of Moria. I have a cousin there, Andre the Giant. He'll give us a king's welcome."

Foley was about to ask why a Dwarf would have the title of Giant, but remembered that he was talking to a Dwarf himself who was nearly seven feet tall. He shook it off. "I wouldn't go through the Mines of Moria if it was the last way on Middle-earth," he said instead.

"Yeah, do you know what kind of scary shit is inside that place?" Jeff remarked with a shudder.

"How would you know; have you been there?" Kane shot back.

"Hell no!" Jeff declared. "And I wouldn't want to go there at all!"

"What are they bitching about again?" the Rock asked Foley, coming up to the wizard to join him for a smoke.

"Oh you know, Elf-Dwarf stuff," Foley said with a shrug. He pointed to a symbol on the map. "Does that look like an 'H' to you?"

"Wussy Elf-boy!" Kane growled at Jeff.

Jeff was about to yell something really cool-sounding in Elvish, knowing Kane probably wouldn't understand it anyway, when he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. Ignoring the rest of the group first, he stood up on the Rock, I mean a rock, and peered out in the horizon with his mighty Elf vision. "What the crap is that?"

"What? The Rock doesn't see anything," Rock said, feeling around his person for some pipe weed.

Foley reached over and took off his sunglasses. "Clearer now?"

"Very funny," the Rock said, grabbing it from him. Then he turned back to where Jeff was looking without putting his shades back on first. "What in the blue hell IS that?"

"It looks like a cloud," Edge said. Apparently the scuffle had ended when Christian had accidentally kicked Jericho in the groin with his size 22 wide and had the man from Gondor groaning in pain to one side.

"Then why is it black among a bunch of other white ones and moving against the wind?" Hunter asked, standing up.

"They're crows!" Jeff said. He looked at them. "Crows? Should we feel threatened?"

"Dude, hell yeah!" Edge said. "They're black crows! They're the harbingers of death or something!"

"No, sparrows are," Christian said.

"Black crows count too!" Edge insisted.

"Shut up, all of you, and hide your sorry asses!" Foley yelled out.

At that everybody scampered off in different places to duck underneath bushes and behind rocks. Jericho limped off behind a boulder and happened to share it with Christian. He glared at the blonde Hobbit as Christian gave him a sheepish grin and then gave an exaggerated motion for him to be quiet. Kurt dove under a bush, underestimating its width underneath and promptly rolled down a couple of feet, slamming into the Rock a couple of ways down. Rock was about to yell at him when the flapping of the crows got louder.

The crows flew around for a couple of minutes, not really looking intimidating, so that Jericho began to feel like an idiot hiding from them. After a while of circling above their poor hiding places the birds flew off.

"What was that all about?" Edge asked when they had crawled out of where they had been taking cover.

"Spies of Kaientai," Foley answered.

"Crows?" Hunter asked skeptically.

Foley shrugged. "They probably though that it fit in with their EEEVVIIILL gimmick," he said with a frowned. "But now when they tell those two creeps that we're here, they'll be watching the pass near Isengard. Goddamnit! Now we've been cut off."

"So what now?" Jeff asked.

Foley looked up at a tall, ominous mountain capped with snow that seemed to frown down at them. "Anybody pack snowshoes?"

**»»»**

"Hah, who looks cooler now?" Jeff asked triumphantly.

Jericho glared at him. "Shut up, Skittles-boy… Elf… whatever!" he yelled over the blizzard.

They were on top of the really tall, cold mountain that was being hit with snowstorms every single day of the year. Today it was particularly vicious and still Foley had adamantly insisted they go through. In other words, all the other eight of the Company felt like strangling the life out of him, if they just weren't just freezing in their flimsy clothing. Okay, so maybe seven out of eight. Jeff, being the damned Elf that he was, had no problem walking over the snowy surface.

Things were actually okay for a while on their climb up. It wasn't snowing heavily for the first part and all they had been walking on was firm snow. So far so good. But then there was a near skirmish that happened concerning Jericho.

Kurt, being the klutz that he was, was trudging along when he slipped. He would have rolled down the entire length of the blasted mountain again if Hunter hadn't been there to stop him with his foot like he was a rolling log. Hunter grabbed him and pulled him to his feet. "Get up. You do that again and I might just let you fall all the way down."

"Gee, thanks a lot," Kurt said sarcastically. Then he grabbed at his neck frantically. "Damnit! The Ring is gone!"

"WHAT?" Foley, Rock, Kane and Jeff demanded from some feet in front of them.

Kurt glanced over to his right and his face lit up. "Whoops, my mistake, there it is. I must've dropped it," He said, spotting the golden Ring on a patch of snow nearby. He was about to go over and pick it up when somebody beat him to it.

Jericho stooped over and picked up the Ring. "We're going through all this shit because of this one little thing?" he mumbled to himself.

"Jericho, give it back to Kurt," Hunter said edgily.

Jericho looked up at him. "Don't give me orders like that, you're not the leader of this expedition! Unfortunately, the weird wizard guy with the pointy hat is."

"Just give it back, Jericho," the weird wizard guy with the pointy hat then called.

Jericho sneered at him, then held up his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine, be that way. You guys ought to learn how to relax, y'know?" he said. Then he walked over and handed it to Kurt. "Here you go, squirt," he said.

Kurt made a grab for it, but then Jericho yanked it out of his grasp in the last second.

"Too slow!" Jericho taunted.

"Just give the fucking Ring back to the Hobbit!" Hunter yelled out in exasperation.

"All right, don't get your panties in a bunch, Hunter," Jericho said with mock politeness. He dropped the Ring in Kurt's hand and strolled away whistling like nothing had happened. Edge and Christian gave each other looks. That guy was definitely more than a little weird.

But that was about half an hour ago. Right now they were near the peak of the mountain and the weather had gone from cold to goddamnit-it's-cold plus a gale. And now most of them were half-buried in the snow and making futile attempts at progress.

"Jesus, it's just a little snow," Jeff called condescendingly. "Hurry up!"

"I'd like to see if he'd be as fast as he is now if I shove the Horn of the Walls of Gondor up his ass," Jericho muttered from behind Edge.

"Cooler? I'd pour snow down his pants, let's see how cool he'd feel then." Edge muttered back.

"Wholly shit, where's Kurt?" Christian suddenly exclaimed.

Everybody looked around. Then Triple H turned to the Rock. "You moron, you lost the halfling!"

"You dare call the Rock a moron?" the Rock snapped at him. "Besides, is there really that much of a loss if he's gone?"

"No, but he had the Ring, remember?" Hunter snapped.

"Maybe he sank," Christian suggested, poking at the snow.

"Brilliant deduction, Einstein," Jericho sneered at him. He sighed. "Start digging for the half-wit!"

They began to burrow into the thick, very cold snow and eventually Kane came across Kurt. He was frozen, literally. He was also in a fetal position on his back. Kane lifted him out and dropped him on the snow. "Here he is," He said nonchalantly.

"Shit, he's dead!" Christian exclaimed.

"We could defrost him first before we come to such a rash decision." Jericho said.

"You want to try lighting a fire here?" Jeff said.

Everybody looked around, then rested their eyes on the wizard. Foley was busy looking at a huge colored travel map of Middle-earth that showcased the most exciting spots to watch for Warg attacks when he became aware of them staring at him. Then he slowly shook his head. "I won't do it."

"For crying out loud, Foley, just shine your little magic stick and light a fire for us!" Triple H said.

Edge giggled. "Hehe, he said 'little magic stick.'"

"That was not a sexual innuendo, idiot!" Triple H yelled at him.

Foley shrugged. "All right, fine," he took his staff, lifted it and held it in the air for a while. It turned into a long while. Everyone looked dryly at him. He tapped the end against his palm. "It must be out of batteries."

Everybody groaned. They contemplated what to do a little while longer until Rock gave a sigh of exasperation and produced a lighter. Jeff's eyes bugged out. "Hey, you can't do that; it doesn't fit in with the setting or the rules of canon!"

"Oh, and between the references to movies like Star Wars, the wearing of sunglasses, mentions of implants and batteries, do you really think this is going to matter, jabroni?" Rock snapped.

"Just light the Hobbit," Triple H said wearily.

Rock promptly (and a little too gleefully, Christian thought) flicked the lighter on and held the flame to Kurt's frozen figure. In seconds the color came back to his skin and he jumped, screeching. "What's the big idea?" he yelled out at the others.

"You were frozen, idiot, and we had to get you out of it. That was the big idea," Triple H growled at him.

"That's it, Foley!" Jericho yelled. He stood up on the snow and promptly sank two feet deeper. With a snarl he pulled himself out and faced Foley. "There is no way we're going to be able to wade through the rest of this mess, jerky! I say we go back down the mountain and take another pass! Besides, these are new boots!"

"I agree with him!" Edge said.

"The only other pass is the Mines of Moria, remember? We went through this already!" Foley said.

"It's got to be better than this!" Rock yelled.

"And much warmer too!" Christian followed up.

Jeff shrugged. "I have no problem with this pass."

"Nobody asked you, Elf-boy!" Jericho snapped at him. He turned back to Foley. "I don't know how many chair shots you've taken to the head to get this messed up, Foley, but there's no way we can get through this place, not without one mother of a blowtorch!"

"Now that would be really pushing artistic freedom," Jeff murmured.

"Fine! Then let's let the Ringbearer decide!" Foley said unexpectedly.

"What?" Rock yelled. "What in the blue hell are you thinking letting the dork choose?"

Foley thought about it. "Oh yeah. What was I thinking?"

"Well I vote we go through the mines!" Kurt yelled out, teeth chattering. The cold had more than caught up with him and he was beginning to think getting burned by Rock's lighter wasn't such a bad idea. "Screw the warnings! We're freezing our butts off up here!"

Triple H blinked. "Wow, so he does have a brain."

Jeff groaned. "So we came all the way up here for nothing?" he whined. "You babies, can't you tough it out?"

"That's it! I'm gonna kill the Elf!" Jericho yelled, taking his sword and trying to get out of the white mush to reach the giggling immortal. It took nearly half an hour to stop the man from Gondor and finally proceed back down the mountain. It was official; Caradhras pass sucked. Now they headed for Moria.


	12. Hell, Or At Least Near It Part 1

**Chapter 11: Hell, Or At Least Near It (Part 1)**

At first being back in the warmth was a wave of relief for the Fellowship, even to Jeff, although he hadn't wanted to admit it. But as they made their way down to the dark and dank place that was supposedly the area of where the gates of Moria stood, they began to get downhearted again.

Foley finally came to a stop in a large cave, where surprisingly two tall Holly trees stood a distance apart from each other near what looked like was an empty wall.

"Hey Foley, what's with the Holly trees?" Jericho asked.

"It used to be a token of the people in this land, and they planted it here for some reason," Foley answered, once gaain demonstrating his memory's faulty knack for detail. "These two grew great and strong, even though they're not in the sunlight. They were given names," He said. "The first one is called Hardcore and the other much smaller one Crash, or Elroy, I forget which."

Rock simply raised an eyebrow. Somehow if people were to really name trees he didn't think Crash and Hardcore were the more conventional ones. Maybe Foley's memory was bailing on him again.

"Those were also the times when Elves and Dwarves still could stay in one place and not automatically break out into a brawl," Foley said, looking at Kane and Jeff pointedly.

"It wasn't the Dwarves who ended the friendship with the Elves," Kane said gruffly.

"Hey, don't look at me!" Jeff quickly protested. "I never heard that it was the fault of the Elves!"

"Lines are bordering in book territory," Triple H warned in a low voice as he passed by.

"I've heard both sides, and frankly they're not very pretty," Foley interjected. "Now if you two can stop jumping at each other's throats every two minutes, can you please help me find the freakin' doors?"

"I thought you knew where they were," Jeff said.

"I haven't been here in a couple of centuries. You expect me to remember something like that?" Foley asked.

Kane and Jeff looked at each other, shrugged, and then set about looking for the gates.

While the three of them went about looking for blasted doors, Hunter and Rock were having a glaring competition to the side, near the Holly tree called Crash. "The stupid pony does not go," Rock said staunchly.

"We can't lead it around in the mines," Hunter reasoned with a snarl.

"This pony is carrying around the Rock's most essential baggage: Everything. Do you really expect the Rock to go lugging it around himself?"

"No," Hunter said easily. "If you can't bring it then you might as well dump it."

"Have you lost all you senses, jabroni?" Rock snapped. "The Rock is not about to throw away thirty grand worth of clothes and accessories!"

"Too bad, because we're not bringing the pony and that's final." Hunter said, looking Rock in the eye and towering over him.

Right about then Edge, who had been walking around, tripped over a root from the Crash Holly tree and he gave a yell as he went flying into the pony. The creature neighed in startled fright at the impact and bolted, running out of there like a Black Rider was after it, and in effect taking all of the Rock's possessions with it. The Rock let out a curse and pounced on Edge, proceeding to try and beat him senseless. Hunter shrugged and walked away; at least the pony was gone.

At that moment a ray of moonlight began to shine from a large opening in the cave roof. Unfortunately, Foley was standing right in its way, scratching his head and still staring in confusion at the blank wall in front of him. "I'm sure it was somewhere around here…"

Kane dryly walked over him and pulled him out of the way. Almost immediately the moonlight hit the wall and fine silver fingers began to lace around the rock, tracing out an arch, sides and different shapes. Large double doors began to take shape. All in all it was a cool effect, and they all looked on in awe. Pretty soon the gates stood in perfect sight of all of them.

All nine gathered around to look at it, even Rock who still had Edge in a headlock. Kurt looked up at the archway. "What do those letters say?" he asked Foley.

Foley squinted and looked at it. "It says…" he began, staring closely at it. "I can't read it that well but I think its says: 'Vertical Entrance 9 feet.'"

Jeff groaned. "I think you need glasses, Foley," he said. He stepped up and pointed to it. "It says 'Speak, friend, and enter.'"

Foley took a closer look at it. "Oh yeah, now I see it."

"So what does it mean?" Christian asked.

"It's simple enough," Foley answered easily. "If you're a friend, you speak the password and the doors will be opened to you." He nearly smacked himself in the head for that, but seeing as no one else chided him for using direct lines out of the movie he said nothing.

"Do you know the password?" Christian asked.

"He couldn't even find the door; you expect him to remember the password?" Hunter said.

"I'll remember it," Foley interjected, irritated.

"How does it know if we're friends or not?" Christian followed up with another dumb question.

"Somehow it just does; and if you're not a friend it reaches out and gives you a wedgie!" Jeff said, springing on the Hobbit and causing him to let out a squeal. "Why don't we put you in front of it and use you as a guinea pig?"

"Stop picking on him," Kane said.

Jeff turned and glared at him. "What's you're problem? I'm just having a little fun! What, now you're all chummy with the little guys and I'm not?"

"If all you people would all just shut the crap up and let me think, I might be able to remember the stupid password to this goddamn door," Foley suddenly snapped at all of them.

"Not likely," Jericho said under his breath.

Foley stood in front of the door and pointed the end of his stick at the star in the middle. "Open, Sesame!" he said in a loud voice.

"Old and tired, Foley," Hunter told him.

"Fine, I thought so too," Foley said with a sigh. "Well, this calls for desparate measures." He lifted his stick, assumed a stance that made him appear to know what he was doing, drew out the actual FOTR novel from within his robes, opened it to a specific page and tried again. "Annon edhelen, edro hi ammen! Fennas nogothrim, lasto beth lammen!"

"Does he even know what he said?" Edge mused to Rock, who had finally let him go. Rock simply glared at him.

Foley belted out some more Elven words, confusing even Jeff. When that didn't work he resorted to Pig Latin, actual Latin, Etruscan, gibberish, random catch phrases and eventually cursing. By this time everybody else had tired of waiting and were loafing around. Only Kurt was still looking up expectantly, and dumbly, at Foley.

Christian, bored to death, began chucking stones inside the black, murky waters of the pool in front of the doors. He wasn't even trying to skip them; he was just chucking them. Before he could throw a third stone in, Hunter grabbed his hand. "Quit disturbing the water, you twerp!"

"Why not?" Christian asked indignantly, still clutching the stone.

"Because it's giving me a bad feeling."

Christian rolled his eyes. "There you go with all that mysterious shit again. It doesn't really become you, man, it just totally creeps people out."

"Just don't fucking do it." Hunter growled at him in warning, then moved on.

Christian made a face at him, then, seeing as Hunter had walked on a considerable pace, he tossed the stone in defiantly like a dumb little kid. Hunter heard the splash and groaned, shaking his head.

"Hey, psycho," Jericho piped up, calling Foley from where he was seated on a rock, waiting impatiently. "We don't have all century! God knows more than half of us would be dead by then. Are you going to be able to remember that password or not?"

"Just give me a few more minutes," Mick said firmly.

"You said that an hour ago," Kane reminded him.

Kurt stood up and looked thoughtfully at the shimmering letters in the hard rock. "Maybe it's a riddle or something."

"Like the ones you're not very good at?" Rock piped up.

Kurt ignored him for the time being. "What's the Elvish word for friend?" he asked Foley.

Foley scratched his head for a bit. "It's on the tip of my tongue…" he murmured. Jeff was about to groan and reply when the wizard suddenly remembered. "Mellot."

Almost at once the silver, swirling lines shifted and the word 'BINGO' was formed. And then it disappeared and the great double doors gave a hideous creak and swung open slowly, revealing a barely lit passage. The nine crowded in front of it, looking inside, more than half of them not liking what they saw but not wanting to admit it. Finally Foley took up his stick and hat, and entered the passage.

"Does the Ring make him smarter?" Edge mused to Christian, looking at Kurt.

Christian shrugged. "Probably. He hasn't been acting all that goofy for the past few days. But then again maybe it's just a phase."

Kane followed the wizard inside, then Jericho and Hunter. Jeff gave a look of distaste and then entered. Rock went in after him, but Kurt, Edge and Christian lingered behind.

"So Kane, you're sure that your cousin is still here somewhere?" Foley asked, trying to feel his way forward with his stick.

"And why wouldn't he be?" Kane retorted. "He's the biggest Dwarf in Middle-earth history; I only second him. He'll be there. Everyone else may call this a mine, but I'm sure inside he's turned it into a palace."

"This isn't a mine, it's a fucking tomb!" Jericho exclaimed.

Everybody stopped as Hunter shone his torch on the ground. It was littered with rusted armor and weapons, as well as Dwarf and Orc and Goblin bones, giving it the whole spooky vibe shit. Kane looked incredulous, even through the mask, and Christian gave a girly scream and ducked behind Edge.

"Ew…" Jeff said, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Then he bent over and pulled an arrow out of one of the skeletons nearest to him. "We got goblins here, people," He informed them.

"Great, just great," Jericho muttered sarcastically.

"You know, the mountain's starting to look good again," Edge piped up.

Hunter was about to second the motion, or at least tell everybody to turn back, when a hysterical scream from Kurt cut him off. All of them turned to see that a huge tentacle had snaked out of the dark waters and coiled itself around Kurt's ankle. It reared back, dragging the unfortunate Hobbit with it.

"Aaaaaaaauuuggghhh! Somebody help me!" Kurt wailed out, his arms flailing as he was lifted off the ground.

Hunter groaned and shook his head, then drew his sword and ran forward to begin hacking at the beast. Edge and Kane followed him, and Edge finally hit the tentacle. It gave a gurgling squeal and dropped Kurt, retreating. Relieved, Kurt crawled back to the shore and let Hunter pull him to his feet.

"I owe you, man," he told Edge.

Before Edge could reply and rattle off a few thousand demands, including returning his teeth-whitener as he was running out, the water abruptly broke again and about fifty billion more tentacles shot out. Kurt, Edge, Christian, Jeff and Foley gave collective screams, but Kurt's shrieks drowned out the others as the octopus-like thingy grabbed him again.

"Wholly shit, what the FUCK is that?" Jericho yelled.

"Who gives a crap? It's going to eat me! Now save me!" Kurt screamed out again.

"It's not going to eat you!" Rock yelled at him. Kurt thought everything was going to eat him.

At that moment a huge mouth lined with huge and plentiful sharp teeth opened, suspending Kurt over it. Kurt gave another high-pitched scream. "What the hell do you call that?" he demanded.

"Oh," Rock said.

To Kurt's horror he felt something slip from his neck. "Kirk Angel, you dickwad, the Ring!" Jericho's voice yelled out. Kurt gasped and to everybody's relief managed to reach out quickly and grab the Ring before it could fall down the creature's esophagus. Assuming it had one and wasn't all feelers and stomach.

"If you can't free him, Hunter, at least get the Ring!" Foley called from the sidelines.

"Hey!" Kurt protested. He was stopped from saying anything further when an arrow whizzed about an inch away from his head. "Watch it!" he snapped. "You nearly shot me, you dope!"

"Well, sorry!" Jeff said crossly from where he had another arrow fitted into his bow. "You try shooting something that's moving! It ain't that easy, you know!" with that he let another one fly, this time cleanly slicing through Kurt's coat, but fortunately (or unfortunately) not nicking the Hobbit in the least.

"Stop it!" Kurt screamed.

"Quit whining like a baby!" Hunter growled. He and Kane were trying to cut him away from the beast near its base. "We're already trying to save your ass; don't make us change our minds!"

Right about then the creature's fangs snapped open and shut dangerously. Kurt let out another squeal while Edge and Christian watched, as if paralyzed on the bank. So much for friends. Finally Jeff shot an arrow cleanly into the tentacle that held Kurt by the ankle, and it let go of the Hobbit. Kurt abruptly landed on Hunter with a yelp of pain.

"Quick, get in!" Foley yelled, motioning for everybody to get in the doors.

Hunter gave a groan mixed with a growl and pushed Kurt off him. He changed his mind when the beast tried to strike again, and grabbed Angle by the collar. Jericho and Kane fended off the creature for a bit as Hunter dragged him to safety, then they all retreated into the double doors. Skeletons may be spooky, but at least they didn't have half a zillion tentacles grabbing at the party, nor would they try to devour them.

The octopus-freak made a great tactical error, though, and paid for it. When the entire company made it through the doors, it decided to stupidly follow. It grabbed the sides of the doors that were so ancient they probably outlived Vince McMahon, and pulled. The doors gave, and immediately everything else that supported the cave roof followed. Needless to say, it buried itself. What a moron.

"CAVE-IN!" Jeff yelled as they ran, keeping away from the falling debris. The noise was thunderous, and everything was just dropping left and right.

"We're going to be buried along with it!" Kurt wailed.

"No! We're too pretty to die!" Edge and Christian cried.

"Shut up and keep running, jabronies!" Rock ordered them with a shove.

Pretty soon the cave-in stopped. The rumble and the falling matter ceased, the unearthly cries from the Kraken-like creature faded and the hall soon became pitch-black. The silence was deafening as they stopped to catch their breaths, leaning against the cold, rock and dirt walls.

It was Foley who broke it. "Well, so much for those something-thousands-year-old Holly trees," he said. Then a radiance came from him and he stepped forward, the end of his stick shining like a flashlight. "I guess we have no choice now but to go through the Mines of Moria. There are many more vile things than orcs that that hang out in this place. Let's hope they don't notice us."

"Dude, we just freakin' hammered on the doorbell until it blared as loud as a siren," Jericho said dryly. "After that racket you think nobody in here would know they've got guests?"

"Ssshh!" Foley hushed him, a finger on his lips. "Not so loud!"

The rest of the eight rolled their eyes at the back of the wizard, but soon followed him deeper into the caves of Moria.


	13. Hell, Or At Least Near It Part 2

**Chapter 12: Hell, Or At Least Near It (Part 2)**

The nine of them trudged through the first half of the Mines of Moria. For the most part it was pretty uneventful, if you didn't count the time when Kurt tripped on an uneven part of the ground and stumbled headlong into the Rock. Annoyed, Rock turned around and nearly would have tossed the Olympic Hobbit off a ledge if Edge and Christian hadn't stopped him. Then there was that other time when Kane actually started humming out of boredom. Jeff and Hunter quickly gave him weird looks, making him stop almost immediately.

It went on like that for a while, until Foley came to a stop where the path split into three ways. The others crowded around behind him, waiting for him to make a decision. Finally he spoke, scratching his head in wonder. "What the hell? I don't remember this being here." There was a collective groan from the other eight.

As of now Foley was seated on a rock, facing the three pathways and smoking his pipe while looking at them thoughtfully. Hunter sat a couple of feet away, with Jeff standing behind him, playing around with one of his arrows. Edge and Christian were lying down somewhere to the left, yawning every now and then.

"Watch it!" Kane growled as Jeff swung the arrow a bit too near him for his liking. "You could put someone's eye out with that!"

"Sorry," Jeff drawled, sounding like he didn't mean it at all.

Kurt was standing near a ledge, bored to death. He kept peering over it, making Rock tempted to creep up behind him and just shove him over. Kurt kicked some stones over the ridge, and then stiffened in surprise when a hurt cry echoed from somewhere below. Giving a small squeal of fright, he scrambled back and promptly tripped over a rock, crashing into the Rock, er, rock that Foley was sitting on. He gave a groan as Jericho snickered off to the side.

"What's wrong now, Kurt?" Foley asked patiently, not having taken his eyes off the three paths.

Kurt pulled himself to his feet, rubbing his head and sitting next to Foley. "There's something down there, Mick," he said urgently. "I think I accidentally hit it with a couple of stones and possibly ticked it off."

"It's X-Pac," Foley said calmly.

Kurt blinked, his face drawing a blank.

Foley sighed. "The one who had the Ring before JR," he reminded.

"Oh."

"He's been following us for two days."

"He has?" Kurt said incredulously. "You knew and you never told me? I never even knew he was behind us all the time!" he looked around. "Did anybody else know about this?"

"How could you miss him? He was grumbling audibly the entire way," Jericho commented irritably.

"I could hear him from two miles away," Jeff said, once again eager to show off his awesome Elf skills.

Kurt looked at them in amazement. "All of you knew?" he exclaimed.

"Yup, pretty much," Christian replied drowsily. Everybody else mumbled an affirmative.

Kurt groaned and turned back to Foley. "Great. Now we've got that psycho after us as well. What does it want?"

"What else? The RING!" Foley replied impatiently, resisting the urge to drum it into the Hobbit's head with his stick. Kurt was becoming thickheaded again. "He's got no other objective than to get the blasted Ring back, that's why he's been trailing us. I'm kind of surprised how he managed to keep so quiet, at least for his standards."

"Too bad JR didn't kill him when he had the chance." Kurt grumbled.

"You think he didn't try?" Foley said. "That X-Pac character can move pretty fast when he wants to, I assure you."

"So why don't we try and kill him now?"

"Not a bad idea," Foley conceded, puffing out a smoke ring from his mouth. "There is this one thing, though; I'm no psychic, but I have a feeling he'll be playing a big part in this quest, bigger than any of us may think. And if we take him out now we'll probably be screwed in the end."

"Aw, shit," Jericho muttered, overhearing their conversation.

They were quiet for another few minutes, until Foley looked up and grinned. "Well what do you know? There's the way we're looking for," he said, pointing to the right-hand passage.

"He's finally remembered," Christian said, nudging Edge awake.

"Not really," Foley said with one of his goofy grins. "I just like the feel of the right-hand way better. For one thing, the air also smells fresher over here."

"Of course it smells fresher over there. The Dwarf's over here," Jericho quipped. Kane growled at him. "I'm just kidding, big guy," Jericho said quickly.

Everyone reluctantly got back up, gathered their belongings and resumed their journey in the dark passages via the path Foley had chosen. This time, though, Rock pointedly stayed as far away from Kurt as possible, to avoid having Kurt trip and crash into him again, the big klutz. Jeff unwittingly got in front of Kurt, and immediately paid for it after a couple of steps, when Kurt stubbed his toe on a rock and went sprawling into the Elf's back, bringing them both down. Jericho, Edge and Christian burst out laughing.

Before Jeff could get up and probably impale Kurt with one of his arrows, Foley spoke. "Behold the great halls of the Dwarves," he said, raising his stick/flashlight and shining it over the area, giving them a good look at the massive pillars holding up a way high ceiling. Despite it being cold and underground, for some reason everything had a red glow about it, so Kane nearly blended in with the surroundings. All of them stared up at it, Jeff and Jericho trying not to be impressed.

"Who's their interior decorator?" Jericho remarked.

"You think he'd remember?" Edge said, motioning to Foley.

Foley didn't seem to hear them, though, and they went on walking. They had but taken a few steps when they came upon long trails of Dwarf corpses again, littered forlornly on the stone ground before a set of wooden double doors. Kane let out something akin to a roar and tore off in the direction of the said entrance.

"Great, will somebody call the Dwarf back?" Hunter said in exasperation.

"I'm not going in there!" Christian said. "Do you see all those bodies? It totally reeks of grossness, man!"

"I second the motion!" Edge said.

"Okay," Foley said simply, "Stay out here then." He and the others then followed Kane inside the room, leaving the brothers outside in the spooky red glow of the halls.

Edge and Christian looked nervously at each other, then at their surroundings, before giving a resigned wail. "Wait for us!" they called out simultaneously, scampering towards the door. Inside the faint light was glowing was blue for some reason, unlike the red smolder that was outside in the halls. They found Kane standing in front of a large, white tomb. It looked like it could hold three Dwarves lengthwise and two abreast. Kane had his head bent, although no one could read his facial expression. Of course, the fact that his face was obscured by the mask played a large part.

"Here lies Andre the Giant, Lord of Moria," Foley read out the inscription on the tomb.

"So he is dead," Kurt said.

"Thank you for stating the obvious, Kirk Angel," Jericho said sarcastically.

"A little respect for the dead, please?" Kane growled, turning to look at them for a bit.

"Sure, sorry," Edge said quietly, backing away a little.

As Kane continued his silent contemplation, Foley took in their surroundings. Among the bones on the ground, something caught his attention. There was a corpse seated with its back leaning on the tomb, clutching a large book in its hand. He gave Christian, who surprisingly took it without complaint, his hat and stick and then stooped over and picked it up. "It's a diary," he said. "Of this poor guy, I suppose."

"So read it," Jericho told him, attempting to look bored to cover up his discomfort.

"Give me a minute," Foley said, struggling with the large book.

"I don't like this place," Jeff whispered with a shudder as Foley thumbed through the pages.

"Really? Why ever not?" Hunter asked sarcastically. "Was it the silent darkness, the skeletons strewn all over the place, or the really big, white tomb of the guy that we would supposedly get some sort of help from?"

Both Jeff and Kane were cut off from replying by Foley, who had turned the book to the last couple of pages and cleared his throat. "It says: 'Dear Diary. I had a wet dream last night. It was about this really hot Dwarf-chick who stole into my room and…' okay, that's not for the kiddies," he cut himself off abruptly.

Jeff had been close to gagging, Jericho had turned green and Edge had thought of covering Kurt's virgin ears. Kurt seemed blissfully unaware, though.

Foley turned the pages again. He scanned over some lines, cleared his throat and began to read once more. "We can't get out, you hear me? We can't fucking get out! The boss got shot by a motherfucking piss-hole of an orc in his goddamn back while he was out taking a leak. The cock-sucking shitface got away, and all we could do was bury the big guy. Took nine of us to lift him, I tell you, and one of my buddies almost had a fucking heart attack. It wouldn't have mattered; we're all trapped in this godfucking hell-hole now and we can't get out! Fuck it, life's a bitch! No gold, no jewels, and now we've got orcs by the fucking thousands out there! And the drums, the drums… they won't fucking stop! We can't get out! They're coming!'"

At Foley's last words Kurt gave a scream and jumped into Rock's arms. "Get OFF the Rock!" Rock roared out in disgust, dropping Kurt onto the stone floor, the dull thud echoing in the room.

Christian, in the meantime, had been drawn to a skeleton that was seated on the edge of a well. How he died in that position Christian couldn't fathom, but as Foley was reading curiosity had gotten the best of him and he reached out to touch its bony hand tentatively. Kurt's scream had jolted him, and he lurched forward a bit, knocking the corpse's head off. The skull fell down the well, and it's headless body soon followed, clattering down and making such a racket that could wake the dead, no pun intended. The heads of all eight of his companions swiveled to look at him.

It didn't end there, though. Christian was still standing by looking stupidly on as it fell, thinking about denying it all. He didn't notice the chain attached to it wrap itself around his ankle. It caught on the Hobbit's leg, and Christian went down with a yell, clawing at the ground to avoid being dragged into the well. "Somebody help me!" he yelled.

Edge rushed forward and leapt for him, managing to grab his arm. He held on while Foley disentangled the chain from his leg, and then it continued down the well with the body. A series of thuds and bangs echoed up the well for quite some time, echoing the corpse's descent. Hunter groaned and shook his head. Jericho rolled his eyes. Jeff grimaced as the last crash was heard, and then there was silence.

Foley picked up his hat and stick, which Christian had dropped. "Fool of a, a…" the wizard searched for the right word to say, then shook his head and opted for a different approach. "Christian, you dumbass! You might as well have popped a 'WE ARE HERE' sign over our heads, complete with neon-flashing light bulbs! I should have just let you go over, then we'd have one less idiot to deal with!"

"Easy Foley, your blood pressure, remember?" Christian said as soothingly as he could.

Hunter spoke up before Foley could burst out again. "I say we get out of this crappy place right now," he declared. "Who knows what those noises, courtesy of the moron over there, could draw to us."

"Oh right, so it's my fault again," Christian complained as everybody began to gather their things to leave. "We've been walking for hours and we haven't seen a damn thing - if you don't count X-Pac - but just a lot of walls and halls. What makes you sure somebody, or something, heard that?"

At that moment a loud, ominous booming was heard in the distance, growing louder and louder as it slowly neared. "The drums," Jeff murmured, his eyes wide. "Just like what the dead guy was narrating in his diary!"

Kurt gave another shriek and dove behind the Rock. "Don't let them get me, Rocky! Don't let them eat me!"

"If you call the Great One Rocky one more time, the Rocky would happily hand you over to them as orc-food," the Rock threatened.

"Hey Kurt, your sword's glowing," Edge suddenly said.

Kurt looked, and then pulled Sting out of its sheath. Sure enough, the blade was giving off a bluish sheen. "Hey what do you know, it is glowing," he looked at the blue light thoughtfully. "Now what did JR say about this again? If it glows green it means I've forgotten something, and blue if somebody's thinking of me?"

"It glows blue if there are orcs coming, remember?" Rock yelled out impatiently.

"Oh yeah," Kurt said.

"Bar the doors!" Foley commanded.

"What, so they can trap and skewer us like they did to these idiots?" Jericho asked, kicking over a skeleton at his feet. "Are you nuts?"

"Do you have a better idea of holding them back?" Foley demanded.

"Give me a minute and I'll think of one," Jericho insisted.

"We don't have a minute!" Hunter yelled. "Now bar the doors if you don't want to end up a dead Undisputed Jackass!"

Grumbling to himself, Jericho went over to the huge wooden double doors and reached out to shut them, only to nearly get hit with an arrow that imbedded itself in the wood about two inches from his hand. A dozen more followed, and Jericho hurriedly pulled the doors shut, barring it with spears with the help of Hunter. "They have a fucking cave troll!" he said in a voice that was a few notches higher than his normal tone.

"Great," Jeff said dryly. He looked at his bow. "Uh, how do you use this thing again?" asked, looking at it dumbly.

"Jeff!" Everybody cried out simultaneously.

Jeff flashed them a quick grin. "Just kidding."

The others felt like strangling him, but at that moment the pounding at the double doors started, getting thunderously louder every moment. Jeff and Hunter armed themselves with bows, standing in front of the tomb and the whole party. Jericho had drawn his sword and was also holding his bizarre-looking shield in front of him, all the while trying to look confident but failing miserably. Edge, Christian and Kurt all huddled behind Foley. The wizard, however, pushed Rock in front of him and gave the People's Hobbit a grin with a thumbs up sign. Rock groaned.

Kane got up on Andre's tomb, making him look even monstrously bigger than he already was. "Let them come," he growled.

"Uh, that's what we're all praying against for, big guy," Edge told him.

All of a sudden a crack appeared in the doors. Jeff let an arrow fly, and its sank an inch right below the opening and stayed there. Hunter gave him a dry look from out of the corner of his eye. "What? I had something in my eye!" Jeff defended, wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt.

Hunter shook his head and fired. Arrows began flying back and forth among the two parties, one composed of the Fellowship and the other a bunch of really butt ugly orcs, goblins, apparently a troll and who knew what else. The doors didn't hold for long; they splintered open, and orcs by the hundreds rushed in, weapons drawn and screeching like hell. There was no choice but to engage in hand to hand combat to defend themselves. Well, okay, so most of the company charged; Edge, Christian and Kurt scrambled to look for hiding places.

It was at this moment that the cave troll lumbered in, swinging its huge club and chain and looking stupid but incredibly dangerous at the same time. Jericho fended off an orc, turned to come face to face with the huge oaf, then swiveled around and ran off to a corner screaming. Kane shook his head and slapped a hand to his forehead, uh, mask.

Jeff had somehow gotten up on a ledge and fitted another arrow in his bow, then fired it at the cave troll. It hit the monster head on, and it gave a roar and turned around to find its attacker. It saw Jeff, and immediately began to swing its chain at him, Jeff dodging it every time it came towards him. Finally it wrapped around a column. Jeff saw his chance and stuck a foot out to prevent it from unraveling. He reached behind him and found to his astonishment that he had used up his arrows. "What the fuck…? I'm not supposed to run out of ammo!" he complained. Seeing no other choice, he put both feet back on the ledge, then did a picture perfect Swanton Bomb right off it and onto the cave troll, miraculously bringing it down, but also wiping him out as well. He lay groaning on the floor.

"What an idiot," Hunter grumbled to himself.

Kane stepped up to the challenge next, proving a more intimidating opponent. He was getting a few hits in on the troll, but then accidentally tripped over Jeff's prone body and ended up slamming on to the ground. Hunter shook his head. In a way it saved the Dwarf's life, though, as the troll brought its club down at that moment and hit the tomb of Andre instead, reducing the top half to rubble.

"Oh, shit," Rock groaned. He was the only one of the Hobbits who was on his feet and fending for himself.

Kurt, Edge and Christian had hidden themselves on an elevated part of the far corner of the room, thinking they would be safe there. "So we stay here until the fight's over, right?" Kurt asked.

"Right," Edge affirmed.

"What if the guys lose?" Christian asked.

"Then we make a freakin' break for it!" Edge said.

They hadn't counted on the troll to ruin what they thought was their perfect plan, though. The creature somehow made its way to them and swung its club onto the column which they were hiding behind. All three of them gave a shriek, but only Edge and Christian made it away safely. Kurt was left with the troll.

Kurt initial reaction was to let out a piercing scream. "Somebody HHHEEELLLPPP MMEEE! It's going to EEEAATTTT MMEEE! Hunter! HUNTER!"

And Hunter thought that only Steph could screech his name in a way that could make people's skin crawl. He wondered for the nth time why he hadn't just taken the Ring from Kurt and continued the journey without the sniveling brat. With a resigned sigh he headed for where Kurt and the cave troll were.

The Game's dumb luck hit him before he could get there, though, and quite literally. The troll swung his club back and conked Triple H on the head. WHAM. Kurt watched in despair as his rescuer blacked out. "Great," he said dryly.

"Kurt, duck!" Edge yelled.

Kurt did as he was told, and the troll's club crashed into the wall behind him. Kurt scrambled through its legs and got to Hunter's side. "Damnit, Hunter, wake up and save me!" he said frantically, slapping the unconscious man's face in a futile effort to revive him.

"Kurt, he's coming back for you!" Christian yelled this time. He and Edge were watching it all from the safety of a ledge farther on.

Kurt turned and he let out a high-pitched scream that outdid anything Christian may have belted out in this entire fanfic. The troll had abandoned his club for a spear, and with a precise thrust stabbed Kurt through the heart with it. Kurt fell down, lying still, giving everybody the impression that he was dead.

"Wholly shit, it killed Kurt!" Jericho yelled.

Rock blinked. He knew he wished Kurt's end a lot of times, but for some reason now that it had come true it wasn't as comforting. Maybe because the Rock had wished that he had done it himself.

And Edge and Christian, in a weird new show of bravado, or newfound stupidity with a dash of courage, which is pretty much to same thing, jumped onto the troll's back. From there they proceeded to pummel it's large neck with their comparatively little fists. It roared out in anger and tried to get them off, jumping up and down and clawing at its back.

In the meantime Jeff, who had remained knocked out since his Swanton Bomb earlier, groaned and slowly pushed himself up, shaking the stars out of his head. "What the fuck happened? Matt ran me over with his dumb horse again, didn't he?" he muttered unintelligibly.

"Jeff, look out!" Foley called.

Jeff looked up and his eyes widened as they fixed on the troll. "Motherfuck!" he yelled out. He took his bow reached behind him for an arrow, momentarily forgetting that he had none. Scanning the ground, he saw a dead orc beside him and wrenched the arrow out of it. He fitted it into the bow and fired, and by some miracle of God hit his target exactly where he wanted it. The troll coughed and gurgled, blood rising up to the arrow in its throat, then pitched forward, dead. Edge and Christian rolled off its back.

"Oh yeah!" Jeff said triumphantly. He looked around and saw that everybody had turned their attention to something else. "Hey, aren't you guys even going to give me a little show of gratitude? I did kill the blasted cave troll!" he called out.

"Kurt's dead," Edge said mournfully.

"And so?" Jeff said, waving his arms. "I killed the cave troll! That's bigger news!"

Back in the corner Hunter had come to, groaning as he held his head. He saw Kurt lying a few feet away from him, face first on the ground. "Is he…?" he asked Foley, who came up.

"I think so," Foley said. "But I don't see any blood. Maybe we should check before we jump to conclusions. Or rejoicing," here he gave Rock a pointed look. Then he went over and shook Kurt. When that did nothing, he rolled the Hobbit over. Kurt gave a groan and opened an eye. "He's alive," Foley announced.

"Goddamnit!" Rock yelled out in exasperation, kicking a stone to the wall.

"He should have been dead," Kane commented.

"Yeah, the troll practically impaled him on that spear," Jericho added.

"Does the Ring make him Super-Kurt now or something?" Christian asked.

Kurt coughed and looked around with a frown. "Well thanks for the support, guys," He said. He pulled open the front of his tunic and something glittery sparkled out.

"Mithril!" Kane exclaimed.

"I was wondering where JR put that thing," Foley mused. "It was given to him by some ruler a couple of years ago, I forget, and is worth as much as the entire Shire, I'm told." Then he frowned. "And he gave it to you?"

"That thing's probably too good for him," Rock muttered.

"Well whatever it is it saved me," Kurt said. Rock made a mental note to kill JR.

Hunter picked himself up and was about to say something when the booming started again. "Again with the drums!" Jeff groaned. He looked at Hunter. "Let me guess: Let's get a move on, huh?"

"Right," Hunter said.

"Quick, to the bridge of Khazad Dûm!" Foley said.

"The bridge of what?" Christian asked.

"Does it matter?" Edge told him. "Get off your ass and let's go!"

And with that all nine of them packed up and were running off through the mines, past the strewn skeletons, the eerie jagged paths until they were back in the great halls that glowed a deep red. All the while the drums got louder, and in a while it was coupled with running feet. Kurt made the mistake of looking back. He saw orcs by the freakin' thousands all running towards them. He would have let out another squeal if Hunter hadn't frowned at him. "Shut the fuck up and just run! Don't look back!"

Kurt did as he was told and kept running. Jeff was shocked and worried to hear the sound of running feet coming not only from behind them now, but even from above them. He looked up and caught a glimpse of more orcs pouring down the columns. They looked like a swarm of really gross, angry and deformed little men. Wait, no, Elves. Orcs used to be Elves, right? Let's assume they were.

They were running in single file yet again, with Foley in the lead, looking kind of weird with his shining stick held out in front of him, long sword drawn and his pointy hat gone. He must have lost in back at the tomb of Andre the Giant. Jeff came right behind him, then Kane, then Rock, then Kurt. Rock had forgotten about Kurt's clumsiness for the moment, but Kurt hadn't tripped so far anyway. Behind Kurt came Edge and Christian, then Jericho and finally Hunter. At that moment, though, Foley came to an abrupt halt. Jeff tried to skid to a stop but ended up bumping into him. Kane saw them too late and crashed into both of them. Rock followed, creating a bizarre sort-of-like domino effect that ended with all of them in a very unremarkable heap on the ground.

"Will you shitheads get off of me?" Foley yelled out.

"It was your fault, you stopped without warning!" Jeff accused, his voice slightly pained from the weight on top of him.

"Uh guys, we have trouble…" Edge said, looking wanly at the approaching orcs.

The orcs surrounded them, their little beady eyes gleaming in the red light. Already Jericho's head was filling with thoughts on the massacre he was sure would follow, not to mention that fact that it was also turning his stomach too. To everyone's surprise the orcs stopped advancing and slowly began backing off one by one.

"What's going on?" Hunter asked as they all picked themselves up.

A loud thud came from one end of the hall and the red glow slowly grew brighter. Foley looked wearily at it. "Something bigger then these guys," he said, gesturing to the retreating orcs. "Big, bad, and it won't be very happy to see us. A Balrog. Swords would do zilch in this situation."

"So what do we do now?" Edge asked, panicked.

"What else? Grab your asses and run!" Foley replied.

And with that forceful command they proceeded to run in single file again, moving for the bridge of Khazie-whatever at top speed. Hunter was surprisingly in the lead this time, with Jeff behind him and then Kurt. Kurt stumbled and would have collided with Jeff again if Kane hadn't grabbed him. Deciding that it was better for everybody's health, Kane tucked Kurt under his arm like a briefcase and kept running, carrying the Hobbit, who gave little protest, along.

Hunter turned a corner and ran down the steps, not realizing that there was technically nothing at the end. He skidded to a stop, but still would have fallen over if Jeff hadn't come up from behind and grabbed him. They fell down backward, Hunter nearly crushing Jeff. "Ow! Hey, you weigh a ton! Get off me!" Jeff said.

"Then you shouldn't have caught me, dickhead," Hunter said, getting up.

"Why the hell do I do that guy any favors?" Jeff grumbled to himself as he stood up.

They all made their way down the narrow and rail-less stairway. All around them fire burned, flames licking up high into the air. In the middle of he stone stairway they encountered a gap. Jeff stopped for a moment then leapt, clearing it easily. He turned and nearly fell off the stairs when Foley followed without warning. The two managed to steady each other, then turned to help the others. Arrows started to fly again overhead. "This just keeps on getting better and better doesn't it?" Jericho muttered when he was across.

Hunter flung Edge and Christian across to Jericho, then turned to Rock. Rock was about to protest being tossed, but Hunter, too busy to argue, booted him across anyway. He looked at Kane. "I don't suppose I have to help you over too."

Kane shook his head, and then jumped. He landed right on the edge of the other side and would have fallen into the gap if Jeff hadn't caught his mask. "Not the mask!" he yelled.

"Would you rather I let go?" Jeff snapped. He pulled, and the mask stretched a bit, revealing a bit of what was under. Jeff shrieked and promptly let go. "Ohmigosh, the face! I saw his face!" he yelled.

"Will you please SHUT the HELL UP?" Jericho yelled at him, grabbing one of Kane's flailing arms, as the Big Red Machine nearly went over again. "Help me help him across!" he told Jeff. The Elf snapped back to his senses and they pulled Kane to safety.

Hunter turned. "All right, Kurt, you next," he grabbed Kurt and was about to fling him over when the part they were standing on began to crumble. Hunter and Kurt scrambled to higher ground and watched in dismay as the lower part of the steps collapsed into the molten rock below, making the gap exceedingly wider. "Why do I get into this kind of shit?" Hunter groaned. "And why do I get into it with you?" he said to Kurt.

Kurt ignored him for the moment; his eyes caught something else. "Hunter!" he said, pointing to where a huge boulder from the ceiling detached itself and crashed into the higher part of the stairs, completely cutting them off from the main foundation. The loose rock that they were on began to tilt and sink.

"Wholly shit!" Hunter exclaimed. He grabbed Kurt by the back of his tunic. "When I tell you to lean forward, lean forward, all right?"

"All right!" Kurt said.

"Lean!"

"To where?"

"Where else? Forward!"

"Well you didn't specify!"

"Stop yammering and do it!"

Kurt finally did as he was told, leaning forward as Hunter held on to his shirt. Trusting someone who didn't like you, like Hunter, probably wasn't the best idea, but at the moment Kurt had no choice. The steps they were on pitched forward and they crashed into the part where the others were, nearly knocking off Jeff and Jericho. Amazingly, though, no insults were fired at the moment, and Jeff and Jericho pulled them to safety, and then they tore off after the others who had already went the length down the rest of the stairs.

More running. It was getting hotter, meaning the Balrog was close. It probably didn't have that much of a problem with the stairs like they did. Also it likely didn't have the problem of orcs bugging it either. They kept on running for their lives until a joyous shout rang out from Edge. "There's the bridge!"

"That's a bridge?" Rock exclaimed, looking at the thin slab of rock that that stretched from one end of a deep and large chasm to the other.

"Hell, as long as it can get us away from whatever's chasing us then I don't give a shit what it looks like!" Jericho declared.

"Less talking, more running!" Hunter said.

On and on, panting like dogs, they ran for the bridge. Edge crossed first, followed closely by Christian. Kane came next, and then Rock. Jericho followed, then Kurt and then Hunter. Jeff stopped halfway and turned to look behind them. "Wholly shit! Look that that fucking thing! It's bigger than Kane!" he exclaimed.

Everyone looked. The fiery beast that was the Balrog emerged, its body looking like it was actually living flame. Its eyes blazed, horns curved from its monstrous heads and a pair of blazing wings was on its back. It held an immense sword and a long whip, flicking it now and then, seemingly unaware that it was killing off any orcs stupid enough to be near it.

Edge nudged Kane. "I think he just stole your gimmick, man," he said. Kane simply growled at him.

Jeff bolted over the bridge and crossed it safely. Foley followed, but then stumbled halfway. "Goddamnit!" he exclaimed, catching himself from falling over, and gripping his sword and stick tightly.

"Foley, come on!" Kurt yelled.

"Just a sec!" Foley said.

"It's behind you!" Hunter yelled.

Foley turned. So it was; the blasted thing had caught up to him and was now leering over him with something akin to a grin. "Bullshit," Foley cursed. He watched as the Balrog raised its sword and brought it down on Foley. Foley yelled out in surprise and threw up his own sword to block it. The two clashed together, and amazingly Foley's held. He opened an eye and grinned. "Hey, what do you know? I don't even know my own strength!"

"Will you stop clowning around and get over here?" Hunter called out to him.

"Wait just a minute, I think I can actually beat this guy!" Foley said.

Hunter groaned and shook his head. "I just know that this is a bad idea."

Foley lifted his stick with both hands and uttered one of the most incredibly famous lines in the movie, if not the most famous. "YOU CANNOT PASS!" he yelled out, bringing his stick down and slamming it on the part of the bridge in front of him, even as Hunter's tiny, protesting voice said something else about direct lines from the movie and the book.

There was a cracking sound as Foley's stick broke in two. Both Foley and the Balrog looked at it dumbly for a moment. On the other side the rest of the company shook their heads in exasperation. Foley shrugged. "Eh, I was due to replace it anyway; no biggie."

The Balrog roared and came closer. Foley's eyes widened when he realized that it was still there. "Fuck! Break, you stupid bridge, break!" he screamed, stomping his feet. In a final desperate attempt he threw the top half of his broken stick on the part he was trying to sever. There was a loud sound as the stone groaned, then gave way. The Balrog gave a yell but it was no use; it plunged into the darkness.

"Oh yeah, Foley!" Edge cheered.

"That so totally reeked of awesomeness!" Christian told him.

Foley grinned and looked down, giving a thumbs up to the fallen Balrog. "Have a nice day!" he called out, and then turned back to the others. "Well, let's get out of this hell-hole."

Hunter blinked. He really hadn't thought that Foley would make it. Foley made a show of dusting his hands, and then moved towards them, but apparently the Balrog wasn't done with him yet. Something snaked out of the darkness below and wrapped itself around Foley's ankle. It was recognized to be the beast's whip. "Fuck," Foley said.

"Foley!" Kurt screamed.

With one vicious tug Foley lost his footing and fell, grabbing onto the edge. Edge looked at Hunter. "Aren't we going to try and save him?"

"Yeah, aren't you assholes going to try and save me?" Foley yelled out, fingers scrabbling to get a firm hold. "Come on; get over here and give me a hand, it's got me!"

Before anyone could make a move and run over to help, the Balrog gave another pull and Foley lost hold of the ledge as well. "You fooooooooooooooolllllllssssssss…….!" Was the last thing any of them ever heard from him.

"Oh shit," Hunter said, looking down.

"Hey Triple H, snap the fuck out of it and let's get out of here!" Jericho's voice cut into his thoughts.

Hunter looked up and noticed that the orcs and goblins from the other side had regrouped, not very crestfallen at the loss of their large companion, and began to fire arrows at them again. Dodging one of them, Hunter turned and began to run after the others, who had already hustled for the gates leading out of Moria. When they got there they burst out into the day, the sun blinding them for a bit but welcoming nonetheless. The Hobbits collapsed onto the ground, panting with exhaustion.

"Oh my God, I can't believe Foley's gone," Christian said mournfully.

"I know, why couldn't it have taken Kurt?" Jeff said.

"Hey!" Kurt protested.

"Great, now we're lost our travel guide," Kane said.

"He wasn't that great of a navigator to begin with," Jericho reminded him.

Rock stood up. "So what now?"

"We go on, that's what," Hunter said, gathering his belongings. "Now all of you get up, we still have a couple of miles to go before we get to our next destination."

"Aren't you going to give us a little time to mourn, or even catch our breath?" Christian asked.

"It's nearly nightfall, and by that time the orcs will be out here by the hundred thousands," Hunter answered. "If you want to stay behind and get killed, fine with me. If not, get up and let's go."

"Who died and made you in charge?" Jericho asked.

"Foley," Hunter said simply.

Jericho groaned. "Oh yeah."

Kurt sniffled and stood up, getting ready to follow the others. He was actually the only one who shed any tears, but it hardly even counted, as he was a natural crybaby anyway. The former company of nine reduced to eight went on their way, but Hunter dreaded every step. For, of all places, they were headed to Lórien.


	14. Of Beer and Cookies… and Posedowns

**Chapter 13: Of Beer and Cookies… and Posedowns**

Kurt groaned. Nobody noticed.

It was close to dusk and they had been walking on continuously since leaving the Mines of Moria. Kurt had brought up the rear for the most part; the blow he had taken to the chest had turned into a massive pain on his left side that was near immobilizing his body. Once or twice he was tempted to whine out about it, but then decided against that. He kept on groaning and limping, though, hoping that somebody would catch a hint.

"Kirk, shut up," Jericho muttered.

Kurt kept quiet, but soon after let out another low groan.

"Damnit, Kurt, what in the blue hell is wrong with you?" Rock finally asked, turning around to look at the other Hobbit.

Kurt pointed wearily to the left side of his chest. "I can't breathe," he wheezed.

Rock blinked. "Why?"

"I got stabbed, remember?" Kurt snapped sullenly at him.

"Oh yeah," Rock said, not looking like he remembered at all, much less cared.

Kurt walked along a bit faster, catching up to Kane where he was finally in hearing distance of Hunter. "Can we stop for a while, please?" he begged. "If I walk any more I'll drop!"

"Fascinating," Hunter said in a deadpan manner and kept striding along.

What followed was a louder, more annoying bleating. "Hunter!"

Hunter sighed. There was the whine again. He stopped for a bit to look at Kurt. "Listen up, we're in the woods of Lothlórien," he said. "We might be safe here, but then again we may not be. I'm not about to take any chances."

Kurt was about to groan again but a glare from Jeff made him think twice about it. Hunter turned around and the company resumed walking.

Presently Kane spoke. "You better stick next to me," he told Kurt. "I heard a sorceress lives in these woods, an Elf-witch who lures people with cookies and they are never seen again."

"Cookies?" Edge asked doubtfully.

"Trust me," Kane said, his features utterly convincing even with the mask.

Edge and Christian looked at each other, and then shrugged.

Kurt kept walking, glancing here and there in case this deranged Elf-witch hauling a tray of creepy cookies would suddenly pop out from behind the trees. Suddenly he heard a voice in his head. "Kurt Angle…"

Surprised, the Hobbit stopped and looked at Edge. "Did you call me?"

"Huh?" Edge stared at him. "No."

Kurt decided to shrug it off and kept walking. Of course it wasn't long before he heard it again. "Kurt Angle of the Shire, bearer of the RING…"

"All right, I know one of you guys is teasing me again," Kurt said indignantly, looking among the others. "Jeff, is that you?"

Jeff Hardy turned to give him an inquiring look. "What're you talking about?" he asked in a puzzled voice.

"You kept calling my name," Kurt accused.

"Hell no!" Jeff answered him with a scowl. "Why would I call you?"

Kurt looked at his face and could tell from the irritation that he was being honest. He looked around at the others. Jericho and Rock both called him Kirk Angel, or some other degrading nickname, so they couldn't be the ones hissing at him. Kane had a trademarked muffled voice so it wasn't him either. Hunter hadn't even stopped and kept walking on. Then fear filled him when he thought of something and he gave a squeal that caused Hunter to grimace. "Oh my God, it's Foley! Foley's calling me from beyond the grave!"

Edge and Christian both squealed along with him, and even Jeff's eyes widened a bit. Hunter turned on hearing this, glowering back at all of them. "What the hell are you yelling about again? Foley is not calling you, dead or not! Now hurry up, it's getting dark!"

"It's Foley, I tell you, Foley! Who else could it be?" Kurt shrieked.

"I'm not Foley, you incompetent fool…!" the voice said in his head again. It was faint but now even Kurt could tell quite obviously female. Kurt gave another yelp and reeled back, only to nearly get poked in the ass by an arrow that was pointed straight at him. "What the…?".

"Hey, what's the big idea?" Jericho snapped, backing away from the tall, longhaired folk who had ambushed them. Elves, pointy ears and all. The fellowship was surrounded by them, all armed with bows and arrows trained on the eight mismatched travelers.

"The Dwarf breathed so loud we could have shot him in the dark," a new voice said, one who obviously did not get the memo on not quoting lines from either the book or the movie. Out from behind a tree stepped forth two tall, blonde figures, obviously the leaders of the other Elves.

"Wait, this guy's a Dwarf?" the other one of them asked, looking up at Kane. "Billy, you sure about this?"

"Do the other four look like Dwarves to you, Chuck?" Billy said. He held a list in his hands. "It says here that the Lord and Lady are expecting four Hobbits, those are the short guys, an Elf, which is obviously the cute one with a bow, two Men, those are the studs standing over there, a wizard and a Dwarf."

"Maybe he's the wizard," Chuck suggested.

"Do I look like a freakin' wizard to you?" Kane growled. "I'm the Dwarf, okay?"

"Wait, you've been expecting us?" Jericho asked.

"I figured as much," Hunter said with a sigh. He stepped forward, forced to humble himself, something he was never fond of. "Billy and Chuck of Lórien, we came here to ask for help."

"From us? Well how flattering," Billy said with a flirtatious grin. "But the Lady is waiting for all of you. We've been given orders to bring you before her at once."

"Too bad, we could have played around for a bit if not for that," Chuck said with a pout, making all eight shudder, except for Kurt who obviously didn't get it. Lucky him.

Hunter winced, then composed himself and continued. "Uh, actually, I was sort of hoping that you could sneak all eight of us through Lórien without letting the Lord and Lady know anything about it." he said.

Both Billy and Chuck laughed. "Cute," Chuck said, reaching over to pinch Hunter's cheek, much to his disgust. "But I'm afraid we can't do that. Whether you or I like it or not, the Lady knows everything that happens in these woods, damn her. If I let you guys pass it's going to be our asses on the line."

"Great," Rock grumbled.

"So get a move on, fellows," Billy said, slapping Jericho on the bottom.

The Man from Gondor gave a yelp and jumped, then turned and glared at Billy. "Hey, just keep your hands to yourself, you queer ass clown Elf!" he yelled, then quickly made his way up near the front to keep from getting close to the two head Elves.

"Ow, and watch the arrows too!" Jeff said, feeling a poke on his ass.

"How are you so sure that was an arrow?" Kane asked.

Jeff let this sink in for a moment, and then ran up screaming to join Jericho near the front. "I've been molested! Aaauugghh!" he then let out a stream of Elvish obscenities Hunter didn't care to translate. Kane snickered.

The fellowship, with their very much-unwanted escort of Elf-guards, made their way deeper into Lórien.

**»»»**

After about an hour's walk later they entered the great city of Lórien. Elves were all over the place, looking down from the great boughs of the massive trees that composed their habitats. The fellowship was led to the biggest of these trees, and they made their way up to where it opened up on a giant flet.

A bunch of Elven maidens were waiting to one side, gossiping languidly, although they did stop when the company arrived. Two large but empty armchairs were in the middle, and the eight travelers were led to stand in front of them. Then Billy went up to inform one of the maidens that the Lady's expected visitors had come. The maiden nodded stood up, going off higher into the branches to call the Lady.

Hunter looked visibly uncomfortable standing in the grand, uh, tree of the Lord and Lady of Lórien. Jeff noticed it and looked at him. "What's up with you?" he asked. "You look like the kid who's stolen the cookie form the cookie jar."

"None of your business," Hunter growled unpleasantly at him.

"Will you guys shut up? The Lord and Lady are arriving," Chuck told them pointedly. Every single one of the eight tired and bedraggled travelers turned hostile glares towards him.

It was the Lady who appeared first. Like any normal Elf she had long, wavy golden hair and a smile came from her red lips. Her face showed signs of slight age, which was kind of weird, but her body showed none, especially her set of enhanced breasts. It seemed that every female on Middle-earth was getting them done nowadays.

"Welcome to Lórien," she greeted in a breathy drawl.

Actually, by this time all of the eight of the company were more or less mesmerized by her, seeing as she was the first woman they had seen since Stephanie at Rivendell. Or maybe it was the effect of the atmosphere; it had turned serenely tranquil all of a sudden. Either way, it didn't matter. To the side, Billy and Chuck rolled their eyes. "We are so much prettier than she is," Billy whispered to Chuck, who nodded in quick agreement.

The Lady heard it, though, and turned an angry at them, losing her peaceful air for a bit and making them back down. Then she turned back to the company with that same serene smile.

At that moment all the transcending peacefulness came to an abrupt end when the sound of shattering glass broke through it. A second later the Lord of Lórien appeared, strolling down the stairs the Lady had come from with an open beer can in one hand and an unopened beer can in the other. "Hey Debra, one of your maids knocked over one of the vases in the living area," he informed her.

Debra groaned. "Not again!"

The Lord turned to the eight. "Is this them?" he asked in a gruff voice. Then he took a gulp of his beer before addressing them, in effect spraying foam as he did. "I'm Stone Cold Steve Austin - WHAT? - and I'm the Lord of this blasted place," he introduced himself. "I understand you boys came from Rivendell?"

"Uh, that we did," Jeff answered.

Stone Cold looked them over, then frowned. "There are only eight of you guys. I thought there were nine. Funny, most of the time when I'm drunk things start multiplying instead of growing less. Unless of course you put a spell on my beer again, Debra," Stone Cold said, looking at his wife pointedly.

"I did not do anything to your beer," Debra hissed at him. "Now could you be a little more cordial? We have guests!" she turned and grabbed a platter one of her maidens had brought. "Cookie?" she offered, showing off a huge assortment of decorated cookies.

All of them looked hesitantly at the cookies, Kurt most of all. Only Jeff merrily plucked one happily and began munching on it. "Thanks," he said.

"Don't eat that, kid, it's poison," Stone Cold joked.

Debra immediately slapped him on the shoulder. "That's not funny!"

"Yeah, whatever," Stone Cold said, eyeing the contents of his beer can suspiciously, then looking back at the eight again. "Where's Foley? I wanted to talk to him. I heard that he was with you."

"Yeah, and that's why we were originally nine," Edge spoke up.

"What does that mean?" Stone Cold demanded.

"Foley has fallen into the Shadow." Debra answered for the eight of them. Christian wondered if it would have been prudent to remind her that reciting lines directly from the movie or book was a no-no when she continued to rip off more. "Your quest stands on the edge of a knife; stray but a little and it will fail to the ruin of all."

"What the hell does that mean, woman?" Stone Cold demanded. "What does that have to do with Foley biting the dust?" before Debra could reply, he turned back to the group once again. It was then that he caught sight of Hunter. A flash of incredulous anger came over his face and he stepped down and pushed himself past the others so that he was staring face to face with the Ranger. "I know you," he snarled at him.

Hunter said nothing, but everybody saw his jaw clench. All the others backed up.

"You had that fat loser of an innkeeper from Bree run me over a couple of years ago, didn't you? I'm right, aren't I? Answer me, son!" Stone Cold yelled, demanding an answer.

Kurt blinked. That actually sounded familiar to him.

"I told you, it was a mistake," Hunter growled lowly, both of them almost nose to nose. "I thought you were in the way of me getting to Stephanie. It turns out I needn't have bothered, you didn't fit in the equation at all."

"Kind of a little too late for that, isn't it?" Stone Cold snapped. "I nearly broke my fucking neck, and the worst part was that I had to go and get healed by that asshole Vince McMahon!"

Hunter remembered that. He had been there but didn't show himself. "So? What do you expect me to do about it?" he shot back.

"What? Don't I even get an apology?"

"Would you accept it anyway?"

"Good point." Stone Cold said, taking a thoughtful step backward. After a few more moments of tense silence, the Lord of Lórien finally turned and trudged back up to where his wife was standing. "I suppose what's done is done," he said. Then he turned back around. "All of you are welcome to stay the night, but once tomorrow comes I want all your asses out of here, is that understood?"

"Yes sir!" Kurt said.

"WHAT?"

"I said sir, yes sir!" Kurt answered.

Stone Cold took a long hard look at the midget in front of him. "Who's the dork?" he asked, squinting down at him.

Kurt bristled. "My name is Kurt Angle of the Shire."

"WHAT? Speak up, boy!"

"I said my name is Kurt Angle of the Shire, sir!"

"He's the Ringbearer, Steve," Debra said.

"WHAT?"

"The Ringbearer!" she repeated, looking annoyed. "I thought we went over this an hour ago?"

"That was before the beer." Stone Cold replied. He looked like he was about set to retreat back into his room or something, when he turned again and eyed Hunter. "Oh yeah, and I'll be watching you, you stupid sonofabitch," he growled at him.

Hunter sneered at him as he and the rest of the fellowship were escorted down the tree by Billy and Chuck yet again, Jericho and Jeff being careful not to get too close to the weird couple. In fact, Jeff grabbed a couple of more cookies from the tray, offering some to Kane who declined. Well, at least they had a place to stay for the night.

**»»»**

Down on the ground, a pavilion had been put up for the eight of the company. Rock had already made himself comfortable on a cot and Kurt was seated outside, listening to the voices of the Elves in the trees.

He stopped Jeff as he passed by. "What're they saying?" he asked, gesturing to the trees.

Jeff looked pale, but stopped and listened. "It's a lament for Foley, I think," he said. "But I won't translate it yet, the loss being too recent and all." Actually, the Elves were singing about the legendary wrath of the Undertaker and what he would do to anyone who had his Ring. But telling Kurt that would obviously upset him and set him off squealing again. Jeff didn't want that to happen.

"Wait, where were you a couple of minutes ago?" Edge asked.

"None of your business." Jeff said, still slightly white. His coloring was actually no surprise; he had been absolutely puking his guts into a brook not five minutes ago. An after-effect of the cookies, one would suppose. At least he would think twice before brainlessly eating any of them again.

Kane suddenly looked up. "Oh great, here come Billy and Chuck again."

Jeff froze and immediately ducked behind Kurt as much as he could. A moment later Chuck and Billy strolled up to them with baskets in their hands. "Orders from the Lady," Chuck said with a grin. "We're here to bring you dinner."

"Uh, thanks," Kurt said, giving Jeff weird looks.

"Put it down and the Rock will help himself," Rock said from the cot, looking disinterestedly at the ceiling of the tent.

"Yeah, what he said," Jeff squeaked.

"Hey Jeff, why are you hanging around these guys?" Billy asked as they set the baskets down. "You're an Elf, you should be with us. Come with us, we'll be happy to show you around."

"Yeah, Jeff, go hang around with you fellow Elf-buddies," Jericho mocked from near a fountain.

"You're welcome to come too," Billy immediately offered.

Jeff and Jericho pondered the invitation for a grand total of one second before replying simultaneously. "I think I'll pass."

"I can't believe you two would want to stick around with these losers when we're here!" Chuck said.

"Yeah, I mean, look around!" Billy said. "Here's an overgrown Dwarf with a totally hideous mask, four short guys with big, ugly feet, and Hunter, who's not actually that bad-looking when you think about it…"

"Watch it," Hunter growled, looking up with a threatening frown.

The other five, however, didn't take the insults too well. Rock sprang up from his place and stomped over to the pair of blondes, glaring at them through his $300 sunglasses. "You dare call the Rock, the Great One, the People's Champ, a 'short guy with big, ugly, feet?' Now listen here, jabroni, the Rock has just come back from nearly freezing his ass on a mountain, nearly getting hacked up by three thousand orcs and running from an ancient fire-breathing demon! The Rock has come too far to take any of your bullshit! Now the Rock—"

"Yeah, sure, we get the point, short stuff," Billy said with a bored look.

Rock looked like he was about to blow his top when Edge and Christian pulled him back. "We'll take care of this," Edge said.

"Yeah," Christian said with a grin. They went up to look at Billy and Chuck. "So you guys think that you're so totally original, don't you?"

"Dude, that's a riot, seeing as you aren't even natural blondes," Edge said.

"What?" Chuck and Billy exclaimed. Then immediately cowered, remembering that only the Lord Stone Cold had claims to that word here.

"Please, that's an even more horrible dye job than I saw on this poor schmuck of a human called Michael Cole," Christian scoffed.

"Now us on the other hand, we're for real," Edge said, showing off his blinding smile of perfect, white, shiny teeth.

"Yeah, we're both so totally prettier than you two!" Christian declared.

Both Billy and Chuck were gaping at them, offended to the point of speechlessness.

"So hit the road, you chumpstains," Christian said.

"Oh, they did not just say that," Billy said.

Kurt looked at Jeff. "That doesn't sound like his catchphrase," he commented. Jeff shrugged.

"So you two dweebs think that you're hotter than us, huh?" Chuck said angrily.

"By far," Edge said flippantly.

"Well then we challenge you to a pose-down!" Billy suddenly said. "Whoever can out-pose the other wins and gets to declare themselves the prettiest in all of Middle-earth!"

"And to think I envisioned this as only something women would argue about," Jericho muttered.

"You're on!" Edge said, accepting. "But we get to pick the judges." Before Billy or Chuck could say anything, he had raced to where two Elven girls had been looking at them and pulled them over. "These two dudettes would be perfect!"

Billy shrugged. "Fine, have it your way. But either way, we're going to win!"

"You know, this I got to see," Kane said, seating himself on the ground to watch.

"The Rock's with you on that one," Rock said, taking a place beside him, grabbing a basket of the food on the way.

The pose-down was held right there in front of them on the grass. Billy and Chuck went first, going over to stand in front of the two Elven girls Edge had dragged into this psychotic challenge. Billy and Chuck proceeded to do a number of poses, first typical I-feel-like-I'm-a-hunk poses, but then it started moving on to slashy ones that involved close contact of a different nature. It got to the point that even Kane covered his eyes.

"Are they done?" Jeff asked, his hand over his face.

"I don't know, I'm not going to risk peeking!" Jericho said from where he had blocked out the sight with his huge shield.

"All right, beat that," Billy said, as he and Chuck backed away and let Edge and Christian take the floor.

"You know, in a way, we don't want to," Christian said, looking traumatized. "But heck, let's get this over with."

"So with the benefit of those with flash photography…" Edge said with a grin, and to everyone's surprise flashes came from the trees. Then both and Edge and Christian struck their classic five-second pose. After the five seconds were over, they started to mimic the other members of the fellowship; from a bad version of the Rock's eyebrow to Hunter's brooding demeanor to Jeff and Kane's bickering. By the time they had finished there was laughter coming from the trees and all the other four of the fellowship watching were utterly ticked off and were planning on getting the brothers killed the moment they encountered anymore orcs the next day.

"You expect that to beat us?" Chuck mocked.

Edge ignored him for the moment. He turned to address the girls seated in front of them. "So, ladies, who do you say won?" he asked, flashing them that brilliant smile of his.

The two Elven girls looked mischievously at each other before turning back to them. "They did!" the two over them declared simultaneously, pointing at a pair of blonde guys. A pair of blonde guys who did not take part in the pose-down.

Jeff and Jericho blinked, looking dumbly at them. "Us?" Jeff asked, pointing to himself and Jericho.

"THEM?" Edge, Christian, Billy and Chuck exclaimed incredulously.

"But we didn't even---"

Jericho was cut off halfway when one of the girls stood up and called to him. "Chris Jericho! Y2J! I'm your biggest fan! I mean it! I'd be happy to come along and carry the Horn of Gondor for you, or even that bizarre-looking shield of yours!" Fan Girl 1 pleaded.

Her companion stood up and waved delightedly at Jeff. "Jeff! Yoo-hoo! Over here, Hardy Boy! Take me along with you! I could be your arrow-bearer, and I swear that I'll be good!" Fan Girl 2 promised.

Jeff and Jericho looked at them, and then at each other. With quick nods of their heads thay swiveled around and tore off screaming into the woods of Lothlórien. With shrieks of delight the girls followed. And thus they ran off into the night, playing an absurd game of cat and mouse.

The others watched them go, speechless and more than a little disturbed. Presently Chuck turned to Billy. "So, who really won?" he asked.

"I don't know," Billy shrugged.

"But we are still so totally prettier than you guys," Edge cut in.

"Nuh-uh!" Chuck disagreed.

"Uh-huh!" Christian shot back.

Kane, Triple H and Rock groaned, and then headed off for bed, leaving the four of them to continue their bitch fight.

**»»»**

Just a little note here: Fan Girls 1 and 2 were originally based on Pyper and a friend of hers respectively, but now they are happily dedicated to all the insane fan girls out there. Keep trying; they'll love you someday.


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